


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by melanie1982



Category: The Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Other, Post-Labyrinth, kindadark, non-canon, thismayfail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 33,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after solving the Labyrinth, and having convinced herself it wasn't real, Sarah lands her first role in a real theater production. The play centers on end-of-life issues and terminal illness, so Sarah volunteers at a local hospice to give her some insights into the material. That the experience will be emotional is a given; however, there are unexpected revelations in store which will change the course of her life beyond the role...</p><p>Fiction. I don't own these characters, other than the original characters in the story. I make no money from this story. Thanks :)</p><p>*tentatively finished 7/27/2016*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Off to a Strange Start

The first thing that hit her was the smell. Hospitals and old folks homes always had that curious mixture of stale urine and antiseptic, but the hospice house smelled of cinnamon apples. Diffusers were perched on windowsills and furnishings, keeping the atmosphere sweet, and since it was a pleasantly warm day, several windows on the lowest floor were open, allowing fresh air to circulate.

The building itself was beautiful, having been converted to a hospice from an old bed and breakfast. The ground floor boasted a communal dining area, a spacious kitchen, activity area, and several small bathrooms each fitted with a toilet, a sink, and a bath/shower. Sarah knew there was also a small non-denominational chapel tucked away somewhere, though it wasn't immediately visible from the entryway. The bedrooms were on the upper floors. As she stood there, a middle-aged woman with a kind face approached.

"You must be Sarah. Thank you so much for volunteering to help; we have less staff during the summer months. So many people taking vacations or having to stay home with their children.. It's wonderful to have someone with no prior commitments."

Sarah nodded, a small part of her whispering, 'You could be busy with Jareth and the others. You could - ' She clenched her jaw, the pain of that movement providing a brief distraction and allowing her to shift her thoughts. "I'm happy to help."

The woman's lanyard i.d. said her name was Dana, and Dana went on to ask a few final questions before allowing Sarah in to see the patients. "You're the youngest volunteer we've ever had here. Did you get a chance to watch all of the online training videos?"

Sarah affirmed, showing Dana her notepad in which she'd jotted down key points to remember. Dana beamed.

"Excellent. It's a good idea to keep a notepad handy, in case anyone has anything important to relay.. when time runs out." Sarah felt a lump in her gut, hoping she wouldn't have to actually watch someone take their last breath, while at the same time being intrigued by the idea.

"Of course." Sarah tried to sound neutral.

Dana introduced her to some of the most acute patients, and outlined the rules one final time. After that, she was left to her own devices.

The first patient Sarah got to know was a woman of about seventy by the name of Marian. Marian's cancer had metastasized, and she didn't have much time left; Sarah did what she could to offer company and comfort to the woman, though she wasn't allowed to administer any of the meds to the patients. Marian was a wonderfully warm, funny story-teller, and Sarah found it was easy to listen to her for hours on end. She repeated herself some days, but Sarah didn't mind; it helped her retain more of the story, and she knew the lady couldn't help it. One particular Tuesday, a little over a week into her volunteer time, Sarah sensed a change in Marian. She spoke less, and when she did, it was.. softer; more reflective. Sarah was nearing the end of her shift when Marian motioned for her to sit.

"What is it, Mrs. Newcombe?" Marian had begun to insist upon being addressed by her married name, even going so far as to tell people her husband was still around, in the next room. Sarah knew her husband was in spirit, but she never argued with Marian.

"Have I ever told you about the time I traveled to Ireland?"

Sarah smiled. It was one of her favorite stories, and one of the few which never varied in its details. Rather than risk upsetting the patient by pointing out that she HAD told her, many times, Sarah simply replied, "Tell me about it."

As Marian launched into the familiar tale, Sarah began to tidy the room, placing the remains of Marian's largely-uneaten dinner onto the tray, ready for pick-up. She was half-listening, wondering to herself if this was Marian's last day in this world, when she heard something unexpected.

".. and that was where I met Jareth."

Sarah dropped the glass, and it hit the corner of the tray table before crashing to the floor and shattering. 

Sarah turned, dazed. "Excuse me? You never.. uh, that is, what an unusual name." Not 'Jared' - no. She had definitely said 'Jareth.'"

Marian became agitated about the broken glass, but Sarah reassured her. "It was my fault. Just.. tell me more about him. Please?" Sarah wasn't ready to say his name aloud. Not after all she had gone through to convince herself he wasn't real, that what he made her feel was..

"Oh, yes. He was taller than you, with piercing eyes; they seemed to be different colors. I remember he had hair like the fae, and he carried himself with such grace.."

Sarah found herself needing to sit down. "What did he say?" She knew her mind was scrambling to ask the right questions; could it be that she had found someone else who..?

"Say? He asked me if I wanted to see his kingdom. I thought at first perhaps he was a tourist attraction, dressed up like that. Ireland does like to play up its 'fairy land' mythology."

Sarah blanched. "What did you reply?"

Marian smiled at the memory, drifting away on its bliss. Sarah cleared her throat, and Marian returned, reluctantly.

"I told him I hadn't the time. He showed me a strange clock, and as he pointed towards it, the hands moved - first forward, then backward. He assured me that we had all the time in the world."

In HIS world, more like, Sarah thought. No. There was no such being, no one who could alter time. There was no such thing as alternate dimensions, no - 

But Marian seemed so sure.

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

Marian looked at her pityingly, as though the answer was obvious. "It wasn't time then. He told me not to tell until it was time to go."

Her blood ran cold. "'Go'?" Was this woman going to vanish into another world? How would Sarah explain THAT to everyone?

Marian nodded. "Yes. I know it's time. Tonight. He's coming for me. I told him back then that I couldn't go, and he promised to find me when it was over."

Sarah looked blank.

"Over," Marian clarified, gesturing around the room. "All this. It's nothing, you know. Don't you see? This isn't living. Not anymore. Oh, I've had my fun; I've loved and been loved, and I've learned so much. But this world isn't for me. It isn't HOME."

Sarah felt like she'd stepped into a low-budget alien film. Jareth the Body Snatcher. 

"That's why he came to me. He knew I was different, you see. Only the ones who are different are invited to go there."

Sarah didn't want to know, and yet, she couldn't control her mouth. "Go where, Marian? To heaven?"

"To the Goblin City. Always refer to him as a goblin; he HATES being called a fairy." Marian was now looking at her strangely, like someone who's just been woken from an intense dream and is getting their bearings.

"Is there anything else you need before I go, Mrs. Newcombe?"

Marian shook her head, though she seemed confused. "No.. no. Why do you look so upset?" She caught sight of the glass all over the floor. "Be careful, Sarah. Watch your step. How did that happen?"

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what? I just woke up."

Sarah swept the glass into a dustpan, lightly running her fingers across the floor to make sure she hadn't missed any before bidding Marian goodnight. Part of her wanted to stay, to wait and see if.. But it was impossible. It was also risky. Her goodbye was as deep and heartfelt as Sarah could make it. "Thank you, Mrs. Newcombe. For everything."

The old woman nodded, sensing that Sarah understood. "You're welcome. Goodbye, Sarah." The usual follow-up of "See you tomorrow" was conspicuous by its absence. Sarah knew what news the morning would bring, even as she hoped it wasn't so. Was it selfish of her to wish for Marian to remain trapped in her broken body, when she was clearly ready to leave it? If only they had more time to - 

"Time is nothing, Sarah. Forever is all that matters."

She shook the voice from her head, resisting it. "You're not real. You have no power over me."

His laughter was tinged with sadness as it faded away.


	2. More Than It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah finds that other patients have similarly astounding stories to impart

Sarah's steps were heavy as she approached the hospice house next morning. There was a curious buzzing energy as she stood upon the threshold, and the moment the door opened, she knew.

"Marian," Sarah said, not as a question, but as a way of making it real for herself.

"How did you know?," Dana inquired.

"She told me last night that she was ready to.. go." Dana nodded. 

"A lot of our patients seem to know when days have become hours. Come in. Her room is already cleaned and put in order for the next patient."

It broke Sarah's heart that there was a need for places like this, and yet, it was so much better than being in a hospital or being completely alone. So much hope and despair, so much joy and regret, all bundled up in one little building.

"I think you might benefit from spending time with some of our less acute patients," Dana went on. Sarah nodded, barely listening. Daydreaming was a hard habit to break, and she knew it was rude, but.. processing Marian's passing wasn't going to happen in minutes or hours. She'd known the woman for less than two weeks, but there was a lot to take in. Her notepad had several pages of information, though Sarah couldn't quite bring herself to dig out her old diaries and compare her memories with Marian's. Not yet.

"..here we are. They're in the dayroom; I'll introduce you."

They?

There sat the most ethereally beautiful fraternal twins Sarah had ever seen. They seemed to be a little younger than her, while at the same time, they seemed.. ageless. "Briony and Carwyn, this is Miss Sarah. She'll be helping to look after you. Okay?" 

They were both looking at her now, and the effect was both instantaneous and mutual: none of them could blink. There was a sense of, "Oh THERE you are!", and Sarah's brain had temporarily turned to tapioca. Something like calm acceptance settled upon their dear faces, while Sarah was still in shock.

"What lovely names. Are they Welsh?"

Briony and Carwyn exchanged a look, and Sarah knew they were communicating with one another without speaking aloud. "Yes." Briony's voice had an almost musical quality to it, and Sarah found herself pulling up a chair to face them, feeling weak. Almost as she had once felt around..

No.

It was a strange reaction to a straightforward inquiry, Sarah noted. "How long have you been here?" She immediately regretted asking, but what's said is said.

"A while." Again with the evasiveness. Perhaps they had reason to be wary. She tried to be compassionate.

Carwyn seemed focused now upon the locket which hung around Sarah's neck. "Do you have a sweetheart photo in there?"

Sarah blushed. "No. It's.. my mother." Fumbling with the chain, she removed the piece and handed it to the children. "She's gone now. This way, she's always close to my heart." Why was she opening up to strangers like this? Was she under a spell? No one else in the room seemed to pay any attention to the twins. Their effect held her, and her alone.

Briony sighed. "Will you be like the others? Or will you listen to us?"

Sarah's blood ran cold, and she felt as though someone held her by the back of the neck. "What do you mean?"

Briony shifted beneath her blanket. "The others who work here, and the people who live here, waiting to die - "

Sarah's breath hitched in her throat.

"- when we tell them how we got here, they don't listen."

Sarah made up her mind to try. Briony nodded, satisfied.

"Will you take us out into the garden?," Carwyn wanted to know.

"Of course," she found herself saying. Something in his tone was askew; it was as though he hadn't truly asked. It sounded more like.. a command. Yet it had been asked so softly; how could that be?

It reminded her of someone from long ago..


	3. Garden of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briony and Carwyn know more than they're letting on...

In the sunlit garden, there was a meandering labyrinth in miniature. The hedges were short enough to see over, so no one would ever truly get lost, but it chilled Sarah all the same. In truth, there seemed to be something familiar about several aspects of the landscaping and décor, from the hue of the stones beneath her feet, to the curious carved faces gracing the pillars. Briony watched Sarah taking it all in, a slight smile playing at the corner of her mouth. That lopsided smile was familiar, too.

"Is this a good place to talk about it? Do you trust me enough for that?"

The pair nodded.

"I promise to listen closely." She couldn't promise to believe them, but she could be sympathetic.

"We came here from our family. They didn't want us," Carwyn stated matter-of-factly.

Sarah hadn't expected that. "Didn't want you, or didn't know how to take care of you? Some people don't know how to handle it when someone they love gets sick." She realized she was talking, not listening, and she kicked herself for it.

Briony shook her head, dismissing this. "We're only sick because we're away from the magic."

Maybe Sarah was dreaming. Maybe she'd gotten sick; a fever or something. "M-magic?"

Briony leaned in. "I know you understand. You were exposed to it once.

Sarah held her tongue, and the twins went on.

"We were wished away from the Above, but our foster family didn't keep us, either." Carwyn seemed teary as he made the admission.

After a moment of silence, Sarah ventured to speak. "I thought all the children who weren't rescued by a runner were turned into Goblins." She could scarcely believe those words had come out of her own mouth, but they had.

"The unwanted human children are adopted out to fae families. They are changed, but they don't become goblins," Briony clarified.

"So he lied.."

Sarah was going over it all in her mind.

"It's not a total lie. Some of the children do take on goblin traits, and occasionally they choose goblin families." Carwyn seemed to be.. defending the King.

"Why did your family wish you away? And why did your fae family send you back?"

Sarah was getting a headache, something which had been happening more and more of late.

"Our human family had a lot of problems, and our fae family sent us back because of the war."

Sarah stared at Briony. "There's war in the Underground?"

"Yes. After you defeated the Labyrinth, the magic.. changed. Other entities started to come in, and some of them were.. not very nice. A few of the goblins tried to form a revolt, and it divided the kingdom against itself. It's bad, Sarah."

Sarah thought of Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus. Then she thought of..

"Where is Jareth?"

Here, the twins fell silent. "Nobody knows."

All around them, the planet went on spinning. Birds chirped merrily, the sun shone upon the righteous and the wicked, and the entire human race remained oblivious to the destruction of another world. Everyone, that is, but the three of them.

"If we were able to go back, we would be healed," Carwyn said sadly. "The human doctors can't find out what exactly is wrong with us, and they never will, because they don't believe in magic."

"No one wants to adopt terminal children with an unnamed illness," Briony added.

"Especially not two of them." Carwyn shrank into himself.

Sarah wished she could help them. "If I wished you back, would it..?"

They shook their heads. "You aren't family. Besides, it isn't safe there, either. The magic is too damaged."

"So there's nothing I can do to help?"

The twins smiled beatifically. "You HAVE helped. You listened, and you believed us."

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful in comparison. They knew not to say anything in earshot of anyone else; both children had been told many times that it was important to tell the truth, to not make up stories, etc. Sarah couldn't get it out of her mind, though, turning it over and over and looking at it from every angle.

She'd meant to save Toby, nothing more. How had her actions destroyed an entire dimension?

There must be a way to help. Then again, could she trust that everything they said was true? How long had they been away? Perhaps things had gotten better in the interim. Things aren't always what they seem, right?

"Sarah.. Sarah.."

That voice echoed in her mind, and she couldn't block it out. It was faint, but it was there, and she knew.

She knew she'd have to find a way to go back.


	4. The Heart of the Labyrinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ancient prophecy must be fulfilled in order to save the Underground.
> 
> Things Above continue to get stranger..

The next morning brought shocking news. Sarah was looking forward to spending time with the only other mortals she'd met who had been to the Underground and remembered it (Toby didn't, or claimed not to; Sarah wasn't sure).. but it wasn't to be.

Dana met her at the door, and Sarah felt all the breath leave her body in a rush. "Has something happened? Did someone..?" 

Dana shook her head no. "It's the strangest thing. The twins insisted on seeing a doctor after you left. They normally don't make a fuss, so, to humor them, I had our physician come by after hours."

Sarah felt ready to cry. "Are they getting worse? They seemed okay when I left."

"That's just it," Dana said slowly. "All of their vitals were stabilized. They seemed.. brighter; more alert. Even, giddy." The woman couldn't make sense of it. "So many of our patients have a 'last rally' before passing on, and I thought perhaps that was the reason behind the changes."

Sarah prodded her as they walked. "But?"

"The doc did new blood-work, and all their levels were great. It seemed as if they improved minute by minute. Nobody can explain it. X-rays, CAT scans, EEGs - all normal."

"That's wonderful," Sarah said cautiously, wondering why she felt so unsure about it. Wasn't it wonderful?

"Well, they've been admitted for observation at the local children's hospital. All being well, Briony and Carwyn will be moved to the outpatient ward while they await adoption."

Sarah froze. "So, they're not coming back?" The young girl struggled to wrap her head around this. 

Dana let out a happy sigh. "This happens once in a blue moon. We call it a Lazarus case. A patient who seems so sick, doomed to die, who makes a spontaneous recovery. It's incredibly rare. I don't know what you said to them yesterday, but the children talked about you non-stop to anyone who would listen."

"Me? I didn't.. I mean.."

Dana looked at her curiously. "They were adamant that meeting you, spending time with you, made them feel better. Children tend to look for magical explanations to things they can't make sense of. Still.."

The woman seemed to catch herself, changing the subject. "Of course, you'll need to be reassigned to a new patient. Let me see.." Dana flipped through her case notes. "Ah. Here's a good one. Weatherton. He's a character. Used to be a professor at that liberal arts school across town." Dana wrinkled her nose slightly; perhaps she wasn't a fan of the arts. Perhaps she wasn't a fan of Mr. Weatherton. "At any rate, I've heard he has a lot of entertaining stories."

Sarah wasn't sure if she needed any more stories, but she knew she was going to find out. The name sounded familiar to her.. "Wait. Weatherton? Was he an author?"

Dana consulted her file. "I don't have anything in my notes about that. Why don't you ask him?"

Sarah was remembering a book from her senior year of Eng Lit, a dramatic analysis of Midsummer Night's Dream and another play about the fae whose title escaped her. If this was the same Mr. Weatherton, that was an eerie link to her experiences with Ja - uh, that person. She tried not to say his name, or even think it.

The door stood ajar.

"Mr. Weatherton? Your new companion, Miss Sarah Williams, is here."

Sarah didn't mean to stare. She certainly didn't mean to gasp. In hindsight, she should've been prepared for something like this to happen.

As Mr. Weatherton rose to his feet, looking Sarah full in the face, she felt electricity crackling between them. The hair was different; he was old, even frail.. but those eyes. Those eyes were unmistakable.

"Hello, Sarah."

It was a sad, tentative attempt, ready for rebuff. He did not hold out his hand, whether in fear of retribution, or refusal to comply with human custom, she couldn't say for sure.

"I.. Hello. I hear you're quite a character," she said, trying to hold his gaze.

"Indeed I am." Turning to Dana, he smiled. "I think we're going to get along just fine. Thank you for bringing her to me." 

Dana, a little mystified, made her excuses and left them alone.

"What are you doing here? How long have - "

"I think, under the circumstances, the past is rather less significant than the present and future. Three years of waiting, hoping and dreading this moment, only for you to agree to be alone in my presence with nary a whimper? I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed."

"Three years. It's all true, then."

He waved his hand. "Well, more or less. I will say your version paints me as more of a villain than I deserve, but, yes, on the whole, your memory serves you well."

Jareth took a step toward her, and she stood her ground, refusing to flinch. She'd come this far, and she wasn't going to back down. "Did you find my messengers up to the task?"

Sarah nodded. "I'm still here, aren't I? I believed them."

"You need to know that I never threatened or coerced them. They were real, living people with their own free will. I didn't expect poor Marian to do such a fine job.. Her lucidity held out just long enough." The Goblin King blinked, seeming to suppress an emotion. "I am glad she's at rest now."

"You mean you didn't - "

"Take her? No. I helped her to the bridge, but it was not in my power to take a dying soul to the Underground, nor for me to accompany that soul to the Higher Plane. Some mysteries are beyond the fae. I was, to her, a welcome guide - nothing more."

Sarah digested this. "And the twins? Was all of that true?"

Jareth had pain in his eyes. "Every word."

"I'm.. I'm sorry. I never meant for this.. But you lied to me. You told me you'd make Toby a goblin, and I.. I couldn't let you."

"I understand why you did it all - better than you think. It wasn't just Toby you feared for." She wondered what he meant by that.

"I still can't believe you're here. I wish there - that is to say, I'd like to help, but - "

"You can, Sarah. But the price this time is considerably higher."

"What could be higher than the life of a child?"

"Your own life, Sarah. Humans find it remarkably easy to allow others to suffer or perish, but that instinct of self-preservation is a tenacious one. If you return with me to help undo what you have done, it may cost you your very existence. I don't have sufficient means to protect you as before."

He was walking around her in a slow circle, and she wondered if she was about to be spirited away, if a portal would open up where his feet touched the floor.. and yet she did not move.

"You are eighteen summers now. No longer a child."

His notice of the fact left her squirming. Why did THAT matter?

"You are too old to convince Toby to wish you away as part of a game; the window of time for that possibility is now closed. And, for all you think I'm a baddie, I can't simply drag you back against your will." He chuckled, but it was hollow. 

"How can I help, then?"

Jareth 'Weatherton' smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."


	5. Q & A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah needs to know

"How did the children get well? I don't understand; they said they couldn't - "

"I healed them. Your intention to do anything you could to help, coupled with your willingness to return, allowed me the power to cure them. You need to know, however, that unless the Underground is made whole again, the 'cure' will only be temporary."

"Will they die?"

Jareth stopped pacing. "We will all die, Sarah. Everyone from that world, as well as any mortals Aboveground whom the magic has touched. There is a delicate balance between the dimensions, and if my world ceases to exist.."

Sarah had a sinking feeling. "It could effect other dimensions, too. Couldn't it?" 

A nod. "Haven't you noticed, Sarah, how many things have come true for you?"

She didn't know what he meant.

"When you need a parking space, one opens up, just for you. You never have to stand in line for more than a few minutes. Your professors heap praise upon you, give you deadline extensions without you asking, and so on. Can you remember the last time you got caught in the rain?"

Sarah racked her brain. "That day, in the park with Merlin. Before I.. made my wish." She realized how fortunate she'd been, even in trivial matters. "Are you saying I.. What *are* you saying?"

"When you defeated my Labyrinth, you gained more than your brother's return. You gained the power to fulfill your dreams. The transfer of magic from my world to yours opened a gateway. Are you beginning to understand?"

The child in her, the one quick to shift blame or justify her actions, piped up. "But.. That isn't what I wanted. I only meant to get my brother back."

Jareth took in the room around them. Sarah couldn't get used to the way he filled the space, looking at once both at home and utterly incongruous with his environs. Even if things were strange, and more dire than she could have believed possible, she was thankful for the chance to see him again.

"You wanted your dreams. If you had chosen the crystal over Toby, you would have lost both. You chose love - the love of a child." He seemed to choke on the 'L' word a little. Jareth composed himself. "In solving the Labyrinth, you gained everything - all that and more."

"But when one wins, another loses." She was crestfallen. Why wasn't he furious with her? "I still don't understand what you meant when you said - "

A crack of thunder made her yelp, her feet leaving the floor for a split second in shock. The weather forecast hadn't said anything about a storm today.. Something very strange was going on.

"Sarah. All will be explained to you, if you choose to return of your own free will. I don't mean to press you," he said, wanting to stroke her hair, but wary of where it might lead, "but even time has been altered there. I fear I have been Aboveground for too long as it is, and unless the magic is restored.."

She waited. "Go on."

"..this will be my last chance to travel here. I have expended much of my power in coming to you. Say it wasn't in vain."

What would happen if she disappeared? And if *she* vanished at the same time as 'Mr. Weatherton'? What about her play? "Do I have time to.." Sarah shook her head, answering her own question. 

Somewhere inside of her, words surfaced, like something she'd long forgotten, and yet she didn't recall them ever having been in her mind before.

*One shatters the crystal  
Illusions and walls  
The kingdom once great  
Now destined to fall  
One comes as the victor  
Restores what was lost  
Two worlds now united  
But not without cost*

"You are that One, Sarah. There is no other hope for my kingdom.. or yours."

She sighed. "I'm ready."

Jareth closed his eyes, as if in silent thanks. "Say your right words, Sarah."

She closed her eyes, too. "I wish... I wish.."


	6. The Beginning of Sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are worse than she feared

When she opened her eyes, they were in the Wise Man's garden. "Why didn't we land at the beginning of the Labyrinth, or, or inside the castle?"

"It isn't my castle anymore. We've no right to go there; that privilege must be earned."

The plants were dying. The very stones seemed to groan in pain, and Sarah wished she could levitate to avoid hurting them. "Whoa!" Her body obeyed her thoughts.

"Be careful, Sarah. Your powers are stronger here. Don't think or say anything you don't truly mean." Here, he tried for a wry grin. "You do have such a bad habit of it, you know."

"Sorry," she exhaled, her feet returning to solid ground. Even the sky seemed a queer, soulless gray, not the sky before a storm; no. This was bleaker than that. The air seemed stale, and the wind blew hot.

"It's like.. like.." Sarah struggled to think of the reference. "Hades. The lifeless, colorless land of the dead."

Jareth came as close to slouching as he ever did. "I know." A roaming unit of goblin soldiers could be heard on the opposite side of a yellowed hedge, and Jareth pulled Sarah into an invisible gateway, obscuring them from view. As it happened, the band turned around and went the other way. Still, Jareth was uneasy, and Sarah doubly so.

"We can only use any particular hiding spot for a few hours at most. Once the Labyrinth senses the disturbance, it will close the refuge, and we must continuously find new places to hide."

Sarah settled on the ground. "You haven't told me everything. I need to know - all of it. The truth. No speaking in lies or riddles." She cocked her head. "You do have such a bad habit of it, you know." 

Oh, how he had missed her spit and fire. "The prophecy of the One is as old as the Labyrinth itself. Those before me put it in place as a safeguard, in case anything ever happened beyond my control."

"So those words that came to me, they were from the Prophecy?"

"Yes. I expect more words will come to you as we near the time of battle. I had to bring you here to train you, as Aboveground is more resistant to the magic - resistant as water is to a person in motion. Your power is stronger here, and you must learn to harness that power."

Sarah remembered something. "Your book - you put pieces of the truth into it, didn't you?"

"Ah, you mean Mr. Weatherton's book? Yes. Truth is a powerful thing, even when it isn't recognized."

"It's a wonderful work. What name did you use? I can't recall."

He looked at her. "David."

She considered it. "You know, I've always thought of you as Jareth, but, somehow, it fits you. David defeated the giant, against all odds."

He smiled. "Precisely."

Jareth plucked a dry leaf from the wall of foliage, rolling its stem between his fingers. "Sarah.. The training is not without its perils." He discarded the leaf, and no sooner had it hit the ground than it turned to dust, dancing away on a swirl of hot air.

Sarah plucked one, too, to occupy her restless hands, subconsciously mirroring him. "I'm a big girl now, Jareth. It's time I faced up to the consequences of what I've done."

He wanted to say something; she felt it. Why wasn't he furious with her, making demands of her? His anger was tempered by something stronger, something she had yet to grasp.

Pulling himself to full height, no longer needing to affect the slumped posture of a dying mortal, he offered Sarah his hand.  
"I need you to imagine us arriving in a place deeper underground - not so deep as to lose access to the magic, but deep enough to be hidden from the enemy. Do not let go of my hand, Sarah."

She took the offered hand, standing beside him. When she opened her eyes, they were in the place he had specified.

"Well done, Sarah. It's time to begin."


	7. If You Love Me, Hurt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We always hurt the ones we..

It was only an hour into the training, and Sarah found herself getting a sense of how powerful she could be.

"Again. Concentrate, Sarah."

His voice was cold and precise like steel, prodding her, but never cutting. She pointed her fingertips at a spot on the wall, and it began to glow, faintly at first, so subtle that she was inclined to dismiss it as fancy - and then, oh then! a spark flicked from her index finger and hit the rock with a hiss.

"Emotion and intent are everything, Sarah. Anger produces magic; justified anger produces one sort, while selfish anger produces another, more destructive form. Grief can be used, as can fear - but the strongest magic is born of love."

Sarah was working through the 'justified anger' kind right now. She knew the grief work was next, and she was dreading it.

Pointing at the ground, Sarah turned in a slow circle, imagining her fury pulsing down her arm, and wisps of smoke began to curl in the dust. 

"That's it. Focus." 

She bit her lip, and the scorch-mark began to wind its way around her feet, forming a circle. Encouraged by this, she imagined it getting hotter - and then, with one last push, FOOM! A ring of fire.

"Well DONE, Sarah!" 

Another thought caused the flames to fizzle out. "I really.. I did that? It wasn't you?"

His smile of pride was tinged with genuine sadness. "It was all you. I must conserve what I have left.. for emergencies."

She regretted asking. Was there a spell for controlling her rash tongue?

"There is, but I wager you wouldn't like it." The dark humor was still alive and kicking.

The final exercise in anger magic was to make the ground shake - a localized effect, but impressive nonetheless. The gravel began to judder like jumping beans, and Jareth nodded approvingly. Once that was out of the way, she had to know -

"How is it that you can hear my thoughts at all, without the.."

"You allow me to. That is why. Now, it's time for phase two."

Sarah nodded. Jareth stood close behind her, not touching, but near enough to do so.

"You need to draw on the grief of your loss. I know it will pain you, but it's powerful energy. Imagine.." Here he paused. He didn't want to hurt her this way. "Imagine the enemy caused your mother's illness. Every labored breath, every round of toxic treatments, every ounce of pain and suffering she endured, all caused by THEM."

"Isn't that anger magic?," Sarah asked in a whisper.

"No. The sense of loss, of vulnerability, makes it different. The pain of losing someone you love.." Jareth lost himself for a moment. "It's a very different feeling. Focus."

She tried to conjure up the raw shock and crippling sadness of the final hours of her mother's life. What she wouldn't have given to have magic then, to offer healing, or at least relief..!

"They may get inside your mind, trying to make you believe illusions, to scare you, or to cause you to give up in grief. You must not let them. By going through the pain now, you'll learn to channel it to your benefit."

"Like taking poison drop by drop, building up immunity to it."

"Such a clever girl. Now, CONCENTRATE."

He had in his hand a withered flower - more of a weed, really - and he held it between his thumb and forefinger, barely touching it. Sarah pointed at it, allowing herself to feel. He knew it was working by the way she trembled, the way her tears began to flow.. The stalk began to firm and thicken, the leaves unfurling, until at last, the pitiful thing's drooping head was upright, not quite pretty, but definitely more viable than before. 

"Look." 

She did, and she gasped. "It's.. alive."

He nodded. "The effect, alas, is only temporary. I tell you now so that you won't be discouraged. Still, if the magic holds out long enough to achieve victory, it won't matter."

They tried a few more exercises, Sarah finding that even her tears could have a restorative effect when correctly applied.

Jareth drew a small blade from within the folds of his garments, and Sarah watched in horror as he rolled up his sleeve and made a series of small marks, no more than an inch or two in length. "Now. Imagine if, by healing me, you can heal someone you love." He did not meet her eyes as he spoke.

She held out her hand, wet with her tears, letting them fall. The skin began to seal itself once more, and she stared.

"Fear is one of your greatest weapons, if used correctly. I want you to imagine yourself being able to defy gravity, to move quickly in any direction, simply by your will. When I count to three, you will move out of the way of an imaginary fireball headed directly toward you."

Sarah focused, imagining it.

"One."

She tensed, waiting.

"THREE!" Sarah dodged out of the way, drifting on an unseen current of energy without actually moving her limbs.

"You skipped 'two,'" she huffed - then realized he'd done it to emphasize the need to be ready for the unexpected.

"You're a fast study," Jareth remarked. "Now, try to mix the anger and the grief. This is a very potent form of magic."

He took a few steps away from her, then, for good measure, took a few more.

"I want you to visualize your anger and your pain as a form of light. Do you remember how to make an energy ball?" 

She did, clapping palm to palm, then rolling around the invisible matter between them as though making a snowball. 

"When you feel it's 'done,' I want you to release that ball at me. Top speed; no holding back. Hesitation will be its undoing."

"Won't it hurt you?"

The smile. "I'm counting on it."

"But isn't that - "

He gestured to the empty space around them. "Do we have a volunteer?" Silence; Sarah got the point.

"Alright. I still don't like this."

She was still rolling the ball. Rolling. Rolling. At last, when she felt it was ready, she released it, straight at Jareth.

He did not make a sound, but the ball hit him, and she saw him ripple. "Again."

Sarah repeated the steps, faster now, and threw it full force. Jareth was against the wall, absorbing the impact. "AGAIN," he barked.

Sarah hit him with a third whammy, and he paled - no easy feat. As he slid to the floor, she rushed over to him, concern marring her young face.

"Oh, I KNEW this was a bad idea! Are you - "

As she touched him, trying to find the location of the injury, he began to recover. "It would take more than that to finish me," Jareth quipped, and she sensed there was a double entendre somewhere, just out of reach.

"I'm.."

"Don't be sorry. You had to hurt me in order to help me. Such is life."

"There's a bigger lesson in that, isn't there?"

"There is."

"But you're not going to gift-wrap it for me, are you?"

"Indeed not."

She smiled a little then. A moment turned into two, both somehow unsure of themselves and the other. Sarah remembered herself, why they were there.

"What comes next?"

Jareth stood. "The magic of love."


	8. The Greatest of These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardest lesson to give - and receive

Sarah begged for a moment to rest, which Jareth grudgingly granted. A moment slid into several, and he had to push her. "It can't be put off forever."

I've put it off for eighteen years, she thought, grimly. Or was it three years - since the first time Jareth - 

"Sarah." There was warning in his tone, but not reproach.

"Right. Sorry. I'm listening."

He was thoughtful, pacing in that way that only he could - like a caged tiger: moody, hungry, unpredictable. She must never forget the danger.

"You need to draw on something significant. It needn't be romantic love, though that is one of the most potent forms. Familial love; the, the love of friends; passion for something constructive.."

"Like volunteering at a hospice?"

"Perhaps. But you had so little time there to bond with anyone, to form deep feelings." He shook his head, a gloved finger tapping his pursed lips. "Deeper."

Sarah called up all the love she had ever felt for her mother. She flipped through a mental photo album of Toby for good measure. She cared for Toby, but he'd been born when she was fourteen - a sizable age gap. Other than a shared father and a simultaneous trip to the Underground (which Toby claimed not to recall), they had precious little in common.

Her friends were.. They had their good points, but they weren't like her. Perhaps *she* wasn't like them? Was it her? She scrounged up what little love she could from her friendships. Jareth was frowning.

"What's wrong?"

"Is it possible that you have so little love in your life there? Such attachment to such a cold, heartless existence.." Sarah waited for him to add, "Such a pity." He didn't.

"I haven't had time." It was a weak excuse, and she knew it.

"You haven't MADE time."

His words stung, but only because they were true. Her human relationships were shallow, based on lies or things unspoken - omitted truths. There was no one up there to whom she could truly relate.

"You still play with your costumes. Your toys may have changed, but the games haven't." He stopped, mid-stride. "It won't be enough." Jareth said the words with such detached finality, it was worse than anger - though Sarah felt certain she'd never seen him in full fury. The idea of it both thrilled and terrified her.

"Are you saying you've brought me here, put me through my paces, and now you're what - going to send me back because I don't have enough love?"

He was weary. She almost wanted to pick a fight with the man, just to see that old fire again.. 

"With my limited powers, I was not able to observe you as often as you think. Perhaps - "

"No!"

Jareth's eyes widened, then narrowed. "'No'?"

"I'm not going to take that. It's my fault that the Underground is in trouble, and it's my duty to fix it. You said; the Prophecy.."

As she spoke, a curious whirling sound like a strong wind filled her ears. When the sound cleared, it left words in its wake.

*She who has a mind for battle  
And a heart for saving kings  
With a tongue no spell can temper  
Shall, in time, restore all things.  
Teacher shall become the student  
And the moon become the sun  
As above, so down below  
When two are added to make one."

Sarah shook her head. "I don't understand. Is it a riddle? How can the moon become the sun?"

Jareth sighed. "I didn't write it. If *I'd* been the one writing the Prophecy, it wouldn't be so sing-song-y."

She smiled at that. "I'm sure you would've done it better." Then, "How much time do we have to figure this out?"

"Three days. Four, at the most."

Her voice was quiet now, tentative. "You really think I can do it?"

He squared his shoulders. "If not you, no one can. I have faith in you; you are the only hope, Sarah." 

Something came to her then. "We have our own Prophecies. 'Now abide these three: faith, hope, and love - but the greatest of these is love.'" 

"The first two I've already given you. I'll just have to find a way to give you enough love to compensate for the lack."


	9. Lessons in.. Huh?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can one know what hasn't been taught?

Sarah looked skeptical. "Are you telling me you can TEACH someone to feel love? I thought love was something that just.. happened." She tried to block her mind from going down that road. That was a teenage infatuation - wasn't it? Real love took time, and trust, and - all the things they hadn't had.

Jareth smiled, that maddening smile of someone who knows something you don't and is enjoying the power that it brings them. "Love requires an object, does it not? If one lived alone, from birth, on a deserted isle, they would never know love - never even conceive of it. So of course it can be taught. How else would it be passed on?"

It made sense.. in a way. Didn't it? "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything unseemly, but, you need to know, I took a semester of sex ed in health class. I know about the.. mechanical side of things. That isn't what you're proposing to teach me - right?" 

Jareth shook his head. "'Sex ed,' however thorough, could never teach any soul about love, Sarah. I'm glad humans are teaching their offspring how to avoid conception - fewer unwanted babies to arrive here - but, that isn't what's needed now."

She squared her shoulders, gathering courage. "So what ARE you talking about?"

He was pacing again. Did it help him think? "You had the germ of the idea when you played in the park, when you daydreamed of valiant knights defending their ladies' honor, of chaste kisses and vows of eternal devotion. There is that aspect of it, the 'romance', if you will."

Sarah liked what she was hearing. "Go on."

"There is also the precursor to the 'mechanical side of things' - courtship; shy glances; fluttering lashes and so on. There must be passion, something felt in the physical, even if it isn't acted upon. Your world is pre-occupied with beauty and desire, so you'll need to draw on that - whatever experience you may have in such things." The tail end of his speech had been mumbled in haste, as though he didn't want to dwell on it.

Sarah opened her mouth to protest that she didn't have ANY experience in 'such things', but she realized she DID have knowledge of what it was to desire. Blushing, she decided that would have to do. 

"What else?," she asked, hoping to shift the subject slightly.

"Love is more than romance and desire. There's the minutae of love, the little things."

She frowned. "Like what?"

Jareth had paused in his pacing as he considered his reply. "Knowing what the other person likes and dislikes. Small gestures to show you're thinking of them, even while apart. Yielding to their preferences some of the time, even when it isn't pleasant. Remembering the things that matter to them: dates, songs, places which hold meaning for them. That sort of thing." He hadn't meant to say so much. Had he given himself away?

When he looked at her, Jareth saw how sad she was. There was a wistfulness to it. "I've never had anyone ask me what I liked or didn't like, or remember the things that matter to me. I've certainly never had anyone do something to show they're thinking of me while I'm gone." There was no bitterness in her tone, and she wasn't fishing for false assurances or playing for sympathy. It was the simple truth.. or so she thought.

"I shouldn't be surprised, Sarah; the males of your species are a gallery of fools."

"And creeps," she added with a shudder. He wanted to know more, but felt that that knowledge would send him into a fury, and he could scant afford to expel magic on whatever mortal 'creeps' had offended his Sarah.

His. He'd slipped up. Damn.

"I can, as the Bard would say, 'play the man,' Sarah, but you must remember: it's for the purpose of saving the kingdom. We must not forget ourselves. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly. "I.. I understand." It would be pretend, much like last time. How had she ever convinced herself that - ? Never mind.

"You must spend as much time as you can bear looking into my eyes. Holding another's gaze is a powerful tactic, and must be treated with care when dealing with enemies. I hope by now that you see I am not to be feared."

She wasn't sure about that, but she knew he wouldn't harm her intentionally. Break her heart by accident, perhaps; but not..

"You need to know, Sarah - when you ran my Labyrinth.. I would not have let any real harm come to you. Failure I would have allowed, but not harm."

She didn't understand.

"If I'd wanted to kill you, I could have done so before leaving your world, though there would have been consequences. I could have had you killed in any number of ways while you were in the Labyrinth. I didn't want you dead."

"What did you want?" 

Here he approached her. *Play the man,* he chanted inwardly. The man of her dreams - and nightmares.

"I wanted you to lose, Sarah. I won't deny it. You think me cruel, but, it wasn't for bragging rights that I wished your failure. It was.." He had his fingers threaded in her hair, and she was leaning into his palm as he combed it. Dizzy.

"I wanted you to choose to stay here. Your father and stepmother were so.. cold; you were surrounded by material things, and yet it was all empty. Do you remember the junk woman?"

"Yes." Her mind drifted back. "After the ball.. She took me 'home.' Only, it wasn't real."

"It wasn't. But the emptiness of your possessions was real enough. You chose Toby over your treasures, when I could have given you Toby and so much more."

His other hand lit upon her shoulder. She tried to form words. "You, uh.. You were trying to show me how shallow I was, weren't you?"

Jareth smiled. "Not just you, Sarah. That world. So much beauty, and yet your kind stifles creativity, disregards magic, chooses artificial beauty over natural.." His fingers moved to her cheek. "So much natural beauty."

She was dazed. 

"If you had lost, you could have chosen to send him back, or you both could have stayed."

With a stab of pain, she wondered if she would've been truly missed. Toby was the child of her father and his new wife, whereas she was a constant reminder of a failed marriage. Of betrayal. Of heartbreak.

"No wonder they hated me."

"No. They didn't hate you. They cared for you, but not in the way that you needed. Not.. Not as I cared for you."

Sarah was so weak. She felt as though she were floating away. 

"Whatever happens, Sarah, you need to know.."

She felt as though they were spinning.

"Know what?" It was so real; there was practically a breeze now. It felt - 

"Don't look down."


	10. Falling (but not Down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greatest power in the world (ANY world)

The air didn't smell as stale now. It didn't make sense for there to be a breeze underground; they weren't even near water to account for the movement of air. "Jareth?"

He held her close, but not closer than was proper. It was a protective gesture, rather than a possessive one. "Eyes closed, Sarah. I don't want you to be frightened."

She tried moving her feet, feeling.. nothing. "My thoughts got away from me," she murmured into his chest. 

"Yes. I warned you about that." They were floating. She knew without seeing. "Luckily, it's dark out at the moment, so we're unlikely to be seen."

"Where.. where are we?" 

"By the looks of it, we're above the now-empty fields of Stonebarrow. This used to be where my kingdom's food was produced."

Sarah hadn't stopped to ponder the day-to-day practicalities of the Underground. "Couldn't you just magic up some food?"

He laughed. "Goblins need tasks to occupy their addled minds and expend their considerable energy, Sarah."

"Makes sense." She was glad he'd given them that - something to do besides drink, party or fight. Perhaps he wasn't the tyrant she had once assumed him to be.

"My subjects chose to remain. There are other leaders who are far more cruel than I." A shudder passed through them both, as they knew they'd be up against those leaders very soon.

"Can I wish us back to the catacomb?"

Jareth sighed. "I'm afraid not. We pushed our limits staying there as long as we did, and now that we've left.."

She tried to think of another good place for them to hide out. "It's no use. I'll have to open my eyes." Sarah looked down, clutching tight to Jareth as they bobbed and weaved upon the currents of the air. "What about that grove of trees?"

Jareth squinted where she pointed. "Doesn't seem guarded. I don't doubt all sustenance has been gleaned from it, and dead trees won't provide much shelter - but it's the best I can see from here."

She willed them to land safely and silently in the middle of the grove. "I'm sorry about getting carried away again."

He smiled. "It's part of learning to control the magic." Sarah's stomach growled, and she saw that, just as Jareth had said, there was no food to be found.

"Can you teach me to make food?"

He shook his head sadly. "Creating something out of nothing is beyond your current skill set. You can only manipulate what already exists. That ability may come in time."

Jareth was looking at her strangely. "What is it?"

"Do you trust me?"

"I.. what?"

"As I asked: Do you trust me?"

"Jareth.. Yes."

He rested a hand, palm toward her, over her stomach. She felt instantly full. 

"Only food. Nothing more."

"Why can't you do that for yourself?," she said, poking at the pooch above her mons.

"Part of the punishment. I won't starve - not as quickly as mortals. Besides, I truly have been ill, Sarah; it wasn't all a ruse."

"The hospice? You - "

Jareth opened his peasant blouse, revealing the ports. As Sarah made out the strange markings in the moonlight, tears sprang to her eyes.

"What..? Jareth.." 

"I don't want a fuss. I'm older than you think. This," he said, gesturing around them, "is about saving the Underground. Saving the deposed king is of secondary importance."

"I still don't understand."

Jareth sat beside her, tired. She was numb with shock. "Without the magic, my health fades. Being near you helps somewhat, but I have to be careful not to drain you."

"What kind is it, Jareth? Tell me that, at least."

He let out a long sigh. "What you call the liver." The same cancer that had killed her mother. One of the most fatal kinds..

"Don't lose hope, Sarah."

"You shouldn't have come back here. On earth, they have treatments; you could've kept.." 

But she knew he couldn't stay away. To think he'd been sick with no one to care for him..

"The hospice was good to me. Truly." He needed to comfort her. Clearing his throat, he began, though not at the beginning: "Regrets, I've had a few - but then again, too few to mention.." 

She blinked through her tears. "What are you doing?" 

"I did, what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption.." 

"Stop that." She was smiling, despite herself.

Jareth paused. 

"That's one of my dad's favorite artists." Images of Jareth and her father bonding over old vinyl made her feel happy and disturbed at the same time.

"I have so few regrets, Sarah."

She swallowed. "Maybe sometime you can tell me about them."

He laughed. "Only if you tell me yours."

The still, small voice of reason in Sarah's mind tried to remind her that this was all pretend, that he was merely teaching her about love - but it was difficult to hear that voice over the thundering of her own heart.


	11. No Sleep for the..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jareth must teach Sarah as thoroughly as he can in what little time they have left.

Sarah had never spent this much time in conversation with anyone - not distracting herself with worldly noise, nor wandering off into idle imaginings. She found that she never tired of his voice. It was, by turns, warm and familiar, and then powerful, with an edge which made her shiver. Time seemed distorted here; had it been so the last time, too? Sarah found it hard to believe that time could vary or be manipulated, but Jareth did his best to explain. 

"Have you noticed, Sarah, that when you're enjoying yourself, time seems so short, but while you're afraid or in pain, it seems to drag on and on?"

She nodded.

"The brightest minds of your world are just beginning to grasp the notion that time CAN and indeed DOES speed up or slow down. Those in other worlds have always been aware of it."

Something about Einstein and time tried to creep into her conscious mind, but it gave Sarah a headache. So did the notion of alternate realities existing at the same time..

"Jareth? Do you think it's possible for a soul to split? I mean, for one part of the person to live in one world, while the other..?"

He stopped her with a sad smile. "A noble idea, Sarah, and a clever one, too - but if you're asking what I think you're asking.. You aren't there yet. Only the more advanced beings can achieve it, and even then, there are risks, complications - "

"You mean risks like a broken heart, or complications like falling i - "

Jareth placed a gloved finger against her lips. "Don't move."

She told him with her eyes that she understood. His tone was so pained, she knew it must be something serious. Jareth moved into the shadows, blending in with the stark gray trunks of the trees in a way which left her breathless. She wanted to call to him, but didn't dare. He seemed to focus intently upon some point in the distance, but Sarah couldn't make out what held his attention.

When he returned, he was visibly shaken, letting out a slow exhale. "There is a disturbance a few miles from here. We'll have to find a new place before dawn."

A thought occurred to her then, so suddenly it left her dizzy. "What happens to a place when we leave it?"

Jareth looked sad, deflated. "It vanishes. Like a page torn from a book, only a jagged edge remains to show it was ever there at all."

She thought of the catacomb where they had practiced. To think she could never return to that spot, with all of its odd coziness, the smell of the earth, the - 

"Surely you didn't enjoy it? The dark, stuffy hole in the ground? No light? No beauty?"

He'd read her thoughts. It was so sporadic now, always catching her off guard. "There was light. There was beauty."

Sarah realized with a start that it was HIM. It was Jareth, and what she felt inside, which had made the place bearable. The trust in his eyes as she wounded him with magic, the strength he found to endure it..

It wasn't real. Couldn't be. They were, literally, from different worlds. He obviously couldn't afford to move Aboveground for any length of time. Could she ever - 

"Sarah. Don't."

She shifted her train of thought. "Before dawn, you say? Where will we go?" Looking around now, the trees, bare as they were, seemed to be sculpted of some strange metal, twisted into impossible poses, reaching towards an unforgiving sky. There was a beauty to their sadness, like the pale faces and dark clothing of the 'goths' at school. The color of the expanse above them seemed to change, tinged with sickly yellow. They didn't have long. It wasn't fair, but, as she well knew, nothing was guaranteed to be fair - in this world or any other.

"Can you recall any other spots from our levitation?"

Sarah found that she could, bringing up the images like a three-dimensional map. Zeroing in on a location, she grabbed onto Jareth as she felt herself rising once more.

"How can you trust me so well, after all I've put you through?"

Jareth inhaled the scent of her from her scalp. "What choice do I have?"

She felt a little stung by that response. He amended it.

"Besides.. Part of caring for someone is trusting them. Isn't it?"

She swallowed hard, clinging to him tighter than necessary, just because she wanted to.

\----------------------------------------

"The lake - or what's left of it. I should have guessed."

In happier times, this had been the site of grand parties for the fae and other species. Sarah had taken them to the threshold of a dilapidated gazebo. The lake had been drained to a large muddy depression in the ground, exposing the detritus of wild partying: broken jugs and bottles, rotten food, animal bones, and other unpleasantness Sarah chose not to puzzle out.

"It reminds me of.. How can it remind me of anything? I haven't been here before. I don't have any friends or family with a gazebo.."

A feeling had been nagging at her, one she didn't have words to express. Jareth nodded, saying nothing for a moment.

"There are things I can't tell you. You must figure them out for yourself."

She climbed the rickety stairs to the platform. The boards creaked and groaned, but did not give out. As she perched upon the railing, looking out across what had once been water, she felt an echo of long ago. "I feel it. I KNOW I've been here before."

Closing her eyes, she could picture the water, rippling and winking in the moonlight. Sarah could hear the joyous music being played, wordless tunes plucked to life from fine instruments by a goblin orchestra: haunting winds, impassioned strings. Couples were dancing, and the guests of honor were being feted, a woman with an elaborate up-do and bedecked with strands of silver and gems. Her consort was hazy, but tall, dressed in colors to complement hers.

"Are you showing me this?" Sarah spoke without opening her eyes.

"Indeed not, precious. I can't perform such glamours now." 

"I need to remember. I.." 

Had she read it in a book, or seen it in a movie? It was too real, too familiar, and the tears began to roll down her face.

"Tell me what you see."

He couldn't read her mind now. That must mean his magic was - 

"I see dancing. Not in the ballroom. It was here, only.." She looked around, seeing a picnicking area lined with tables. There was something for everyone, and in the center of it all, the grandest table, there was - 

"A wedding."

Jareth tried not to be startled. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. There's a cake - it's so tall. Every layer is different. On the top, I see.."

His heart skipped a beat. She wasn't seeing the past - at least, not anything from his lifetime. That must mean it was a vision of things to come.

"I see myself. And you."

Opening her eyes, she found him within breath's reach of her face. "Jareth.."

He couldn't guide her here. Words flashed into her mind, rolling out like text across a blank page, and as she reeled backwards, Jareth caught her.

"Tell me what you're seeing." One hand gripped her by the waist, the other cradled her neck. Sarah was shaking as if in the throes of a seizure. 

She saw the words forming quicker than thought, and as her eyes glazed over, she began to recite them:

*A walled garden is my love  
Queen of earth and heaven's delights  
As below, so too above  
Mark the place with passion's bites  
What is here considered good  
Mortal men would call a sin  
Great in pow'r and love she stood  
Tear down walls and let love in*

"What else, Sarah?"

"Numbers. Endless lines of them, all ones and zeros..." Her voice sounded far away. "Then.. a two. The lines of ones and zeros are forming a two."

She surfaced from the vision. Jareth was there, welcoming her back.

"The tense changes. Sometimes the verses speak of the past, and other times they speak of the present."

A breeze began to skitter across the shallow, stagnant water. Sarah heard the naked trees creak as they swayed. 

"Passion's bites.. Passion makes me think of 'red'. Like lipstick? I didn't bring any with me this time; I haven't.."

She hadn't wanted to wear it since last time. Sarah had stuck to pinks and peaches since her last visit.

Jareth looked pensive. "I don't think it's referring to lipstick. 'Kisses' might have been, but 'biting' is rather more.. aggressive. More obvious."

Kisses could be chaste, platonic, familial, or passionate. They could even be used to betray someone. "I don't understand. The first part sounded like the Song of Solomon.."

"One of the great kings. Mmm." They weren't near a garden, so far as Jareth could see. Then again, so many things had changed.

"In the Bible, the walled garden referred to the king's bride. I was watching a wedding. She saved her.. garden of delights for her husband." Sarah was blushing, despite a sudden chill.

"Ah. So your kind manages to sneak sexual imagery into religion just as we do?"

This wasn't the time for a theological debate. Sarah laughed nervously. "The verse said that what's considered a sin to the world is seen as something good here."

"Biting. Virgin queens. Sin being good." Jareth was trying to link the pieces together in his mind. So far, no matter how he configured them, he feared Sarah would be horrified.

She was now able to sit upright without support. Dawn was breaking, and the light seemed to reflect from the mud in a way that didn't make sense. Sarah noticed it, too. 

"It looks like the waters are coming back."

The waters, muddy and uninviting, were, indeed, rising. Behind them, the stretch of ground linking the gazebo to the mainland was sucked under.

"Jareth?" 

"'As below, so above..'" He was on the verge of a breakthrough. The wind had picked up, making it unsafe to attempt flying.

"Jareth?"

"No rest for the wicked, Sarah. On the count of three, jump."

She didn't understand, but she trusted him. What choice did she have? Besides, that's what you did when you cared about someone.

"One."

The waters were lashing against the foundation of the structure like waves of the sea.

"Two."

Water spilled over the floorboards, dampening her shoes.

"THREE!" 

With arms locked around one another, they jumped, crashing through the damaged wood and falling into pitch-blackness. She didn't scream; she had no breath for it.

When they landed, they had only a few seconds to scramble to their feet before the waters followed them down. The head start wasn't sufficient, and they were soon swept along an underground tunnel by waist-deep currents.

"Don't let go!," she cried, feeling his grip on her forearm. The water was cold, and it was so dark; at any moment, they could be dashed to pieces against unforgiving rock.

She mustn't think like that. Something positive, something good.. Imagining they found higher ground and light, she summoned her will.

As the minutes ticked by, they grew accustomed to the darkness. The water couldn't go on forever, could it? It had to run out eventually; there couldn't be an endless supply..

Soon the water began to recede, becoming knee-deep, then ankle-deep, until two wet, shivering forms were trudging through a muddy passageway. There was no dry place to rest, and no light by which to see - until - 

"There. Do you see that?"

Jareth pointed straight up. There was the faintest chink in the rock, allowing daylight to entice them upwards.

"Can you find any toe-holds in the rock?" Sarah had taken a semester of rock-climbing her junior year; maybe this was doable.

Jareth pulled himself up with relative ease. "I've scaled castle walls to meet the demands of lesser beauties," he confided, teasing. Sarah swallowed the bile of jealousy as they began to climb.

She had planned to try to reach the top, or as near as they could get - but her foot caught something bigger than a toe-hold. There was a ledge, no more than twelve feet in any direction, and almost without light - but it was dry. Here, they could rest and try to figure out what to do next.

"Funny. Never been to this bit before," he confessed. "Must be new."

It couldn't be entirely new - could it? As he inched along in the near-darkness, he felt a familiar glass form sitting on the ground. "Do you remember the fire trick?"

Sarah smiled. "Of course. But what am I setting fire to?"

"I've found a lantern. Would you be so kind..?"

Concentrating, she aimed her fingers at the wick until it began to smolder, finally bursting into life. The effort had drained her, and she sat, shivering against the wall.

Jareth spotted something in the far corner of the dug-out cave. "Someone must have lived here at some point. They left blankets."

Handing her the largest, cleanest one he could find, Jareth began to remove his soaked clothing, wringing them out over the edge of their refuge. She averted her eyes. 

"Sarah, you really ought to remove your.. garments. You have the blanket; it won't do to catch cold."

She knew he was right. Still, the thought of undressing with him so close to her was.. was..

"Sarah?"

With a sigh, she began to peel away the layers of wet clothing. Peeking over her shoulder to see if he was watching, she let out a squeal of indignation - and then of surprise.

"Jareth, you have a birth mark just like - "

In her surprise, she had turned to face him, and was now forced to cover her breasts with her hands. The birth mark was on his left thigh, extending all the way to where his leg joined his.. That is to say, where the crease of his thigh became.. um..

"Yours is on the left. Mine is on the right." She was struck by the fact that his looked like a mirror image of hers. If they were to lie down, one on top of the other, the marks would line up exactly. *That* mental image generated more heat than the blanket.

Jareth, unashamed, walked over to her. "Marks. Passion's bites." As he pondered this, Sarah, throwing modesty aside, stripped down to her underwear. 

"See? The same."

He did see. "As below, so above. Have you any marks anywhere else?"

"What? N-no. Just.. just that one." 

Jareth traced its outline with his eyes. "Such a pity."

"What is?"

"That under such rude, primitive circumstances, I shall have to *make* marks above. Forgive me, my lady, but the prophecy must be fulfilled."

As his lips met hers, Sarah's heart murmured 'Amen.'


	12. The Burden of Righteousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piecing together the love magic needed to save the Underground is a mixture of pleasure and pain...

This isn't real. It isn't. It's just to save everyone.

Were those the words of Sarah Williams, the mortal, or of the Queen in the vision, steeling herself for her diplomatic wedding?

Sarah began to feel like she was two people inside her own mind. "I'm the Queen. The vision, Jareth.."

She was murmuring against his mouth, which was both endearing and frustrating. The fact that precious little was keeping their bodies apart - a pair of soggy panties and a couple of blankets - was making it difficult to maintain restraint. "Oh?"

"Yes. I feel her thoughts. I feel her.. She wants to, but she doesn't. It doesn't seem real. She doesn't think he really loves her."

"The king, I presume?"

"Yeah." 

His lips were now on her neck. 

"Brace yourself, Sarah."

He bit down, his teeth bringing increasing pressure against her skin, making her cry out. It was so good, she clung to him, urging him to keep going, and at the same time, the fear in her made her want to pull away.

"How many marks should we..? I mean, I don't want to .. mm.. "

"Since they can't be undone, perhaps we should stop at one?" Jareth reluctantly released his grip of her. "You have one mark 'below,' and now one 'above.'"

Pressing her fingertips to it, she knew it was so. "Do I have to mark you, too?"

He considered it for a moment. "I don't recall anything of that nature in your recitation." Pity.

"We need to figure this out. Maybe if I write down every verse I've received so far.."

Jareth watched as her half-naked form, now covered by the blanket, crouched down and began to trace the words into the dust.

*One shatters the crystal illusions and walls  
The kingdom once great now destined to fall  
One comes as the victor, restores what was lost  
Two worlds now united, but not without cost.  
She who has a mind for battle  
And a heart for saving kings  
With a tongue no spell can temper  
Shall, in time, restore all things.  
Teacher shall become the student  
And the moon become the sun  
As above, so down below  
When two are added to make one*

That left the latest verse to be added.

*A walled garden is my love  
Queen of earth and heaven's delights   
As below, so too above   
Mark the place with passion's bites   
What is here considered good   
Mortal men would call a sin   
Great in power and love she stood   
Tear down walls and let love in* 

Something occurred to Sarah. "What if the verses are referring to more than one person?"

Jareth frowned. "You mean, you think they're about more than just you?"

"Yeah. I mean, it says the teacher becomes the student. I was the student before, the one looking for answers; that made YOU the teacher. So maybe this time I'LL teach YOU something."

He was peering at the words now, trying to follow along.

"What if one verse is about me, restoring all things here, and the other - "

"Is about me, restoring things there?" They looked upward, knowing they were deep below the earth plane. 

"And what walls need to be torn down? The invaders have already demolished so many walls; why would the prophecy lead me to destroy what's left?"

"Walls exist in the mind and the heart, too." He said it softly, and she felt his pain. 

"I don't want any walls between us. I don't want.. anything between us."

She shirked the blanket away from her upper body, moving toward him, careful not to disturb the scribbles in the dust.  
Honor demanded that he look away, but desire.. Desire held court in the king's heart.

"Jareth. I want the truth."

"The truth about what?"

"Did you only bite me because you had to?"

A lie would wound her, but the truth could hurt her more, in ways she couldn't yet fathom.

"JARETH."

How many moons had he longed for her to call to him, in any context? Even to be accursed, for his name to become a four-letter filth word in her estimation, would have been preferable to the stony silence. Now, she was in his arms, enticing him, and he faltered?

"I bit because I had to. I kissed because I wanted to."

She nodded. "The verses didn't say anything about kissing. So that was just.. improv." Glancing over her shoulder at the notations, she gasped. "Some of the words are glowing."

Jareth couldn't see them. "Which ones?" His voice was clipped in agitation, though not at her.

"'Love', 'delights', 'passion', and 'love' again." 

Jareth could feel her trembling. "Is there anything in the revelations which would indicate we should NOT kiss again?"

Sarah let out a shaky breath. "No."

"In your vision, were you.." He hesitated. "Were you happy?"

"Yes. I was terrified, and I had a million questions, but I was. Happy. I was.. ready."

"A marriage to bridge the worlds."

Sarah, impatient for his kiss, pouted. "I don't think it was that simple."

"The teacher becoming the student. What could - "

She silenced him with a kiss. The verses, vague and disjointed, swirled in his mind; she was still going over them, even as they feasted on one another's mouths. 

"You have to teach me to use this.. what I'm feeling. I have to make the power of love my strongest weapon against the evil."

Of course. This was why they needed to kiss - not just because they wanted to. 

"I want you to draw deeply upon my energy as our mouths meet. Hold that energy here - " Jareth rested his fingertips against the place directly below her navel - "and feel it building inside you."

She felt energy building inside her every moment they were around each other; this was going to be easy - and yet, torturous at the same time. He kissed her, really kissed her, like she was his air, and Sarah felt the heat swirling inside her, filling her, bubbling up like lava in her veins.

When he broke the kiss, she felt dazed, breathless, and pleasantly used. 

"The people of the east call this part of the body the Seika tanden," Jareth informed her. She tried to mimic his pronunciation, giggling slightly. 

"If that's too difficult for you, it's also known as 'the lunar plexus.'"

Lunar? "Like the moon?"

"Yes. Many people believe this is where your energy concentrates. Medically speaking, it's the center of gravity for the human body, the place that maintains balance."

Sarah felt so woozy. "Well, I think you put a whammy on my lunar plexus balance thingy. I feel ready to fall over."

She was tired; they both were. "This place is as good as any for a rest. It's dry, at least." Looking over the edge, he could still see the water.

"I do wish you'd remove the last of your wet clothing."

Sarah felt her skin threatening to chap beneath her white cotton panties, but being totally naked would be..

Jareth sighed, letting the matter drop. "We'll need to sleep close together, both for safety and for warmth."

Sarah looked at the blanket, its curious dappled coloring. He soothed her.

"Creatures of the Underground often shed their entire skins. No animal was harmed to make these blankets, Sarah."

Reassured, she allowed him to make a thin pallet of one blanket, covering the two of them with the remaining throw.

"Mm. I thought you said there was no rest for the wicked? I feel pretty restful right now."

He smiled into the back of her head. "If you don't go to sleep very soon, you may find yourself learning first-hand just why I consider myself wicked." 

"What's sin back home is good here," Sarah murmured, reminding herself - and him - of the prophecy.

"Scripture-twisting, are we?" There was amusement in his voice, and it warmed her. As she was drifting off, she thought of something else.

"The lunar plexus.. There's a solar plexus too, isn't there?"

He slid a hand from her hip to the place just above her navel. "It's here. The navel is a sort of.. equator between the two places. One above, one below."

"So my bellybutton is like the halfway point between two worlds?" Her thinking was fuzzy, Jareth's fingers now lightly stroking her skin from one point to the other, languidly, lovingly. The heat inside of her grew.

"I suppose it is. Sarah Williams, Queen of Navel-Gazing, joins two worlds within her own body." He'd said it like a mock news headline, but she knew he wasn't making fun of her.

"If you keep stroking my sun and moon spots like that, we aren't going to sleep," she warned him, wriggling her hips backwards against his body. Jareth groaned.

With a kiss to her shoulder, he settled down, and within a moment of each other, they were both asleep.


	13. What Dreams May Cum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah has a delicious dream

Sarah was dreaming. The steady drip of water down the cave walls seemed like music, each drop striking a rock and producing its own note. Beneath her body lay a blanket of warm fur, tickling her skin; above her lay the hard form of a demigod, barely moving, yet driving her delirious with need. She whispered to him, requesting a kiss, then begging, but he wouldn't relent. Her lips formed his name, louder and more forcefully each time, until she awoke, feeling him pressed flush to her backside, awake but motionless.

She rolled her body toward him, their eyes locking. "This isn't real."

"You were dreaming."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. I mean this - us - it can't work. Can it?"

Her nipples were dark points of temptation in the light of the lantern. Jareth had never wanted or needed to resort to force in order to have his way with a maid, but Sarah tested his limits in a way he couldn't explain. 

"I still have so much to teach you. We must keep in mind that this isn't for us; it's for everyone."

"So teach me." Sarah placed her hands over his, moving them to her breasts. As his palms cradled her orbs, her breath hitched in her throat.

"This is a dangerous game." There was simmering aggression in his tone, the warning growl of a large cat before the pounce.

"I've waited for you my whole life - even before we met. Even when I was too young to know what I wanted - "

"Age isn't the only sign of readiness. You're too pure, Sarah, too - "

"Please."

He began to crumble, the dam of his reserve breaking apart under the thundering flood of his need.

"Don't defy me. Love me; fear me; do as I say, and I will be your slave." She almost laughed at the last word; she knew - they both knew, deep down - that she would most certainly never be his slave. Role-play, perhaps, but that independent streak would never die.

"I'm not tired anymore. Everything we've gone through, the waiting, the tension, the dangers and hardships.. I want happiness. I want.. I want YOU." 

He groaned, low in his throat. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Don't some people use sex as a way of raising power for magic?"

"Not us, Sarah. Not now."

"I'll do it on my own." Her eyebrows raised in challenge, her hand creeping toward the waistband of her panties.

The breath stuttered in his lungs, and speech failed him.

"Do you doubt me?"

"No." She would; it would embarrass her no end, but he had full faith that she would remove that garment and - 

Taking her mouth in a kiss, he spoke in whispers. "I can't give you all of myself. Not like this, under these circumstances."

"Give me what you can. Show me, Jareth; show me love."

The feel of the gloves was pleasant, but she was itching for his skin. "Do you ever take them off?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes." She sounded exasperated, but he wasn't stung.

"You may not be able to handle it."

Sarah let out a huff. "I defeated your Labyrinth, and you think I can't handle you touching me?"

With a bemused grin, he tugged at the fingers of the gloves under her watchful gaze. "Remember that you asked me to do this, Sarah."

"I'll sign a consent form if you want - just, please, hurry!"

The instant his bare hand touched her body, she realized her mistake. Waves of intense heat curled through her, slamming into every nerve ending, assaulting her senses. "Jareth - "

"You wanted me to show you," he murmured darkly, sending another jolt through her body and making her eyes roll back into her head.

His fingers trailed across her nipples, and they were instantly as hard as they could be, painfully so. Jareth's breath caressing her there had Sarah panting, her thigh muscles clenching.

"Please - "

"Be careful what you wish for. Haven't you learned yet?"

The merest stroke of his fingers along her sides had her practically levitating off the make-shift bed. As his fingertips rounded her hips, the panties began to dissolve, leaving no trace upon her skin. Her pelvis tilted upward, legs parting shamelessly; the blanket beneath her was treated to a voluminous squirt. "Jareth.."

One finger, rigid and single-minded in its purpose, traced from just below her breasts, down in a straight line, dipping into her navel and making her womb clench.

"The sun.. and the moon.." 

As he found her soaked cleft, she gasped. "Please - "

"Let's see if we can find the stars," was the last thing she heard before she exploded, her body racked with violent shudders at the merest touch from him. As he withdrew contact, allowing her lungs to remember how to breathe, his smile was feral, like the wolf approaching Red Riding Hood.

"I prefer to take more time than that, Sarah. Leaving the gloves on prolongs the proceedings considerably."

She wanted to be put out, but he had merely done as she'd asked.

"Lesson.. learned." 

Jareth put the gloves back into place, caressing her soothingly as she came down from the high. "I need more."

It was said so quietly, he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.

"Jareth.." She pulled herself up, her head swimming. "The student needs to become the teacher."

"If we're going to justify this little exercise, I'll have to throw in an actual lesson. Last time, I .. let you off easy." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Very well. But you're going to learn, too. I want some things - specific things. I want you to learn my body, what I like, what I don't.."

Jareth liked what he was hearing. "We still can't - "

"I know." She was pushing him down, onto his back. The gloved hands were resting by his sides, awaiting instruction. "Give me what you can.." 

He hadn't expected her to be so.. so..

"Demanding?"

Her smile faded into shock as she realized she'd read his mind. "I didn't mean to.."

He kissed her. "I'm glad you did. It shows you're getting stronger in magic. No regrets, Sarah. Life is too short for that."

She steeled herself. She felt.. different. The Queen in her was rising, giving her a confidence she had never possessed. This wasn't play-acting anymore; this was..

Her hands moved to explore the naked devotee beneath her, and sensation removed the need for words.


	14. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both have so much to learn

Sarah had surprised him - and herself. It hadn't been easy to abide by the rule of going to the edge without tumbling over, but as they lay, sweaty and sticky, her innocence was *technically* still intact. 

"Did I do it right?" There was a hint of teasing in her tone, and he caught it.

"Considering you read my mind like a dirty novel, I don't see how there's any doubt. You did wonderfully."

"I didn't mean just that, silly. I mean, the magic.."

Looking around at the glowing portals on the walls around them, making the place as bright as daylight, he nodded. "You exceeded my expectations."

She grinned, feminine pride blooming in her tender chest. There were 'other' bite marks above now.. and a few below. Just to even things out, you understand.

"I mean it, Sarah. You show a lot more natural aptitude for magic than I would've thought. Most humans overthink it to death, but you - "

Here, he caressed the underside of her chin. He loved that she neither hid her eyes nor flinched.

"You let yourself feel. Somehow you found a balance between losing control and holding back. How ever did you manage it?"

"High praise from a king - even if you sound like one of my teachers." She grew thoughtful for a moment. "I just.. felt it. I kept going back to the sun and the moon in my mind, and I felt both of their powers coming through me."

"Mm. The sun is usually the masculine essence, while the moon is the feminine. I wonder if.."

She heard the thought, even unspoken.

"I thought we couldn't do that, Jareth." 

"I'm not sure what to think anymore. It would be the ultimate way to balance the energies, and it would bridge the two worlds."

"It's too easy. I thought restoring all things came at great cost."

"You don't see the loss of your innocence as a great cost? For all we know, it would mean you'd be stuck here. I've never lain with a mortal, Sarah; there are things even *I* am not privy to, unwritten rules.."

She'd wondered about it herself more than once, during their time apart. "What if I chose to stay? Would it be so terrible? Would you end up building me my own castle at the opposite end of the Underground once you got sick of me?"

He dismissed this without a word. She knew he wanted to say more, but it was too fragile, too precious.

"Alright. Have the waters drained yet? Should we venture downward, or keep climbing?" 

Sarah felt if they stayed there much longer, the evil ones would sense the disturbance. Or she'd forget the real reason she had come back. Either way would spell disaster.

"Never go downward here unless you have no choice. At the gazebo, we had no choice; now.."

"Okay. Up it is."

She was sore, and her limbs felt wobbly like a new-born colt's, but she managed to dress once more in her mostly-dry clothing (minus the panties, which no longer existed.) Jareth did likewise.

"Could you align the stones to help us get out of here?" 

Sarah realized how much easier it would make things. "How do I.."

His hand on her stomach drew up energy like rising water. "Use what you've learned."

She could feel the power inside herself, building and expanding. As her fingers touched the walls, the stone became pliable, and she pulled at it, stretching it out into a long, flat ridge.

"Ah. A ladder rung. That's more efficient than a toe-hold." Sarah reached several inches above the first rung, forming another. It was easier with her eyes closed; something about the touch of his hand on her was heightened in that state. It also meant she wouldn't be tempted to look down.

"Would you give me a boost? Just for the next rung," she added, feeling his body already fulfilling her request. Forming a handle out of the rock, she was able to steady herself while making the next step and the next with her free hand. "How long will the magic last?"

His voice was tinged with regret. "Probably only long enough for us to get up there."

"Oh. Guess I'd better not screw up, huh?"

The climb was faster than she would've liked, but the short-term effects of the work would be to their advantage - perhaps the forces wouldn't notice the disturbance if it vanished quickly enough.

As they reached the ceiling of the rock, she felt uncertainty creep in. "Now what?"

"The light, as you used it earlier. Only, this time, it must be concentrated enough to break through."

There was already a crack; how hard could it be? "No pressure."

Jareth elected not to mention that the step beneath his boot was beginning to soften. Sarah summoned all the will she had, but the crack was widening too slowly.

"I can't - "

"You CAN. Visualize it."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling hope, feeling his love. He wasn't trying to save himself in case she failed; he had no back-up plan, no allies, and she knew it. "Please.."

Hearing her like that, the pleading in her voice, awoke the hunger in him. It was perverse, but danger was a common aphrodisiac, even among mortals. Jareth's hand ventured up to Sarah's backside, which, under the circumstances, wasn't able to move out of reach. 

"Come along now, Sarah. You wouldn't want me to have to give you a spanking for failing, would you?"

The whimper that escaped her pretty mouth at that image suggested that she might very well want a spanking. At any rate, the extra jolt of emotion did the trick, and the chasm was now open enough for her to wedge herself through.

Once she was atop the cave, she reached down for him. The sight of her offering him rescue was burned into his mind; her eyes were so full of concern for him, it nearly broke him. Jareth felt himself finding purchase on the outer rock just as the last rung crumbled away.

Behind them, the sound of something hitting the water with a sludgy splash was jarring.

"Did you drop something?"

He patted himself down. "Oh, damn. One of my amulets is missing. Never mind. When I'm restored, I can have the silversmith make me a dozen more just like it." He glanced down at the fingers of her hand: graceful. bare. They seemed paler, softer than before, and yet he knew they were capable of vigorous.. work. 

"What is it?" She felt self-conscious, though couldn't fathom why. Why should him seeing her hand make her blush, after all he had seen - all she had eagerly exposed for him?

"You seem more regal as we go along. Even your hands resemble those of a lady." It was the truth - but not the whole truth. He was imagining those fingers adorned with rings. No; better yet - only one ring. HIS ring. 

Sarah was scouting for their next location when her stomach growled.

"I'm sorry."

"No. I'm the one who must apologize. I've over-taxed you, and I've nothing to offer you. If I were to repeat the tummy trick, it probably wouldn't tide you over until morning."

She sighed. Perhaps when they got to .. wherever they were going, they'd find a solution.


	15. The End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah has to find them a new place to stay. She and Jareth need to decipher the prophecy before the final battle, and time is running out

There had been an empty field, and Sarah was preparing to will them there - when the rock beneath them began to shake.

"Hurry, precious. We must leave this place!"

She grabbed onto him, closing her eyes and visualizing the field. When they landed, they were exposed; finding shelter was imperative. At least the ground here was stable.

"They're getting stronger, aren't they? It's taking less time for them to find us, to feel the disturbance.."

Jareth scanned the horizon, but it seemed as though the field stretched on for miles in every direction. The grasses were dead, yellowed to almost-white, and they rattled in the breeze. It reminded Sarah of the clacking of dry bones. 

No matter how long or fast they walked, they seemed no closer to the horizon than when they had taken the first step. It felt as though they were marching in place; the sun had not moved in the sky, and there was not another living creature to be seen. "An illusion. It has to be."

Jareth sat down to rest, weak with hunger. Sarah had an idea, a sudden, foreign image in her mind that poked and cajoled and wouldn't let up. He sensed a change in her, but said nothing, preferring to save his breath.

Sarah closed her eyes, imagining herself as being in the very center of the field. She then turned to address the energies of each direction, one by one.

"Oh wise crone of the North, please make our path sure."

Jareth was stunned. Sarah, a mortal, attempting to invoke the favor of unseen entities!

"Gracious light-bearer of the East, pray keep your border sure as we journey."

Turning, she spoke again. "West, domain of storms and darkness, please hold your position so that we may go forward."

Finally, she appealed to the South: "Winds of the South, I ask that you grant us your favor."

Jareth found his voice. "What made you say such things?"

Sarah busied herself, kneeling down and carving out a shallow hole in the earth with her fingers. He watched as she secreted a coin in the soil before covering it with a pat of her palm. The ground rippled, then settled, becoming flat and seemingly undisturbed. She repeated the process until all four directions had received tribute.

"It wasn't me. It was the *Queen* in me. I can't explain it."

She helped him to his feet, the feel of her skin now mingled with the dirt as he took her hand. They started out again, and this time, as they headed West into the shadows, they gained ground. The sun followed its rightful path, and they soon reached the end of the field.

"It looks like the end of the world," she remarked as they neared a smoldering abyss. It was darker than anything she'd ever seen, and language failed her. Jareth reached out protectively, preventing her from moving forward.

"Left. That spot over there," said Sarah, pointing at a dim object Jareth could not make out.

The object so close to the edge of nothing turned out to be a crude barn, recently vacated. It was cold inside, and Sarah regretted not having had time to grab at least one of their blankets.. until Jareth spotted something more valuable than bedding.

"Sarah.. They've stored enough food here to ride out an apocalypse."

She joined him, peering into the cabinets lining the wall. Whoever had fled this place had been hoarding foodstuffs for some time; there were bottles, cans and jars, none of which were labelled, though all of them held appeal.

"Shall I eat first, to make certain it's safe?" 

Sarah moved to a stone circle in the corner near the hearth. "A well. There's water, too!" She drew up the pail, gazing into it for a long moment. Sarah came to a decision.

"Both of us should taste each thing at the same moment. It's only fair." Her eyes betrayed no fear; Jareth only hoped that courage was mirrored in his own.

Making a cup of her hand, she scooped the liquid into her palm before raising it to her lips. Jareth did likewise. As one, they sipped - and waited.

The water had a metallic tang to it, but they suffered no ill effects. Slow sips passed the next several minutes, and all seemed well. Sarah moved to the cabinets once more, selecting a jar by touch. She had begun to be aware of the energy of objects, a knowing by the sense of touch, and the jar's contents felt safe to her. Opening the lid, she offered a piece of the mystery food to Jareth, before taking one for herself.

Without discussion, they opted to feed one another in the same moment. Jareth's brows arched in surprise.

"The pears of Nehemoth. I haven't tasted these since I was at my nurse's knee. She used to bring them to the castle, though hers were dried - candied."

Sarah smiled. "I never thought of you as a child. You seemed so.. set as a man, as though you'd always been the way you were when I met you." Endless questions about his past flitted through her mind, but they were having such a pleasant, ordinary moment; she didn't want to risk spoiling it.

Outside, it was growing dark - almost as dark as the abyss. "We should look for something to give off light." She looked at him again, saw how fatigued he was. "I should look. YOU should rest."

Had he been his old self, this would have met with considerable resistance; as things were, he had little choice. His magic was draining, and with it, his life force. He could allow her to perform this task for him. "Thank you, Sarah."

She scoured the cabinets and the corners, rifled through the hay which spread haphazardly across the barn floor.. Feeling a metal hook in one of the boards, she pulled - and a trap door opened. The cavity was only about three feet deep, but inside the space sat hundreds of lumps of misshapen wax. Bringing one out to examine it, she realized - 

"They're poppets." The figure in her hand had a mean grin, pointed ears, and wild, staring eyes; her first instinct was to throw it in disgust -but the surface was wax, and that meant it could serve a purpose.

"Be careful, Sarah. We don't know who or what it's meant to represent." Jareth knew enough of voodoo to be wary.

"I'll only burn as many as we need. Whoever made these put a lot of effort into them, and if they come back, I want these to be here waiting for them."

She placed the figure on the ground, feeling it watch her as she found a suitable surface for it. Having set it in place upon a metal plate, she concentrated, aiming her fingers at the wax as she'd practiced in the catacombs - but nothing happened. Time and again, she felt the spark fizzle and die before fully manifesting.

"This calls for more magic," she murmured, making her way to Jareth. 

Jareth, having eaten his fill of one of his childhood favorites, was gazing at the rafters. He wondered if owls roosted there, lost in thought until the moment Sarah was upon him.

"A kiss for your champion?" She was teasing, but he took it to heart.

"Of course. You've saved my life numerous times; I owe you that much." She leaned over him, his weary body responding instantly as her lips touched his. It was a long, slow, drugging kiss, and he felt the power in her rising.

"Much better." He propped himself up on one elbow as she sauntered back to the figurine, pointing at it once more. "Forgive me," she whispered to the effigy. This time, the tips of her fingers began to grow hot, and with a satisfying foomf!, the figure caught light - as did the surrounding hay.

"Oh, no!" She ran for the well, then remembered she could put it out without water. Imagining the flames dying, she watched as they complied. 

"That was close." Her breathing became even once more, and she ensured that the barn doors were closed and locked before returning to Jareth's side.

He was fading into sleep against his will, and she knew there would be no more talk or lessons for at least a few hours. The hay was prickly, but it was softer than the wooden floor, and she sank into it, wishing for peaceful rest. The figure continued a steady burn, casting shadows on the wall in the slight draft. Sarah considered turning him to face away from them, but perhaps it would be better to keep an eye on him as she fell asleep.. 


	16. Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah's subconscious works on the Prophecy as she sleeps

Sarah was dressed in royal garb - not ceremonial robes, but the uniform of battle. She was walking with purpose into the middle of a crude arena.

"For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great.."

Just then, the wall to her left caved in, becoming a mass of stone rubble and crushing several spectators. 

"Turn back, Sarah." The voice, unfamiliar, sent a chill through her. She raised her chin in defiance.

Around her neck was a glowing amulet set in a silver chain. She felt its presence, and her heart slowed. "I will not forsake my people."

Dark laughter, the voices of legions, rang out on every side.

"YOUR people? You abandoned them before; you'll do so again."

The wall to the right exploded with a blast, raining down shards of rock as sharp as shrapnel. Sarah shielded her face, but stood her ground. Dust and debris now coated her hair and clothing like wig powder, but she was not vain. Who had time for such trivial matters when both the world she loved and the world she'd left behind were at stake?

"I won't abandon them. I've changed."

"Too little, too late!" "She's a liar!" "Bullshit!" The gallery was against her, booing and jeering as she advanced. 

"You're wrong about me." Her voice was clear and even - almost cold.

"Prove it!"  
"Yeah - prove it, princess!"

Sarah took up her sword, unsheathing it as she prepared to defend her kingdom.

Her challenger, an imposing creature with almost a foot of height on her, squared his shoulders as he entered the center ring. He had two faces, and she remembered something about a Roman god, Janus, the god of endings and beginnings. Both faces were furious, hard and cruel. 

"To the death?," the being wanted to know.

She nodded.

"I need your WORD, 'majesty.'" Another roar of laughter from the onlookers.

"On my crown, good sir - to the death."

Cheers replaced the laughter, and several forms of currency changed hands among the throng. Most bets were against Sarah.

"Faithless wench!" "Fraud!" "Pretender!" Those were the least offensive accusations hurled at her. Vitriol flew thick and fast, but Sarah tuned them out, focusing on the rhythm of her heart and the weight of the amulet nestled there.

As she advanced upon her opponent, she felt something else: the love of the man she could sense but not see. Inside of her, the love for him was rising up to its full height, spreading into her arms like wings, and giving her an extra surge of energy.

They circled one another, the creature making several angry thrusts, while Sarah remained coolly detached, dodging the intended blows. She let him tire a bit, and he grew more enraged by the minute. "Are we doing battle, or are we dancing?" She smiled, and her sword met with his shoulder, marking him.

"Why not both?"

Several whistles rose up from the more reckless subjects. The two opponents circled again, Sarah deflecting his sword with the clash of her own, meeting him, matching him for strength. She saw the anger in his eyes tinged with fear; he had underestimated her.

Blow for blow, they were equal. She drew upon something he could never fathom - the hope of a future beside the one she loved - and with a sudden change in direction, she had him off-guard. Another strike, this time at his side, had him howling in pain.

They went around again, his tunic seeping with red beneath his armor. Blood mingled with the dust. Sarah reached down, dabbing her thumb into it before striping it down each cheek. The crowd went berserk. 

Weakened but determined, he parried forth - and she moved aside, barely moving the dust as she did so. As he recovered his balance, the tip of her blade grazed his throat. In another instant, he was on his back, her war-painted face looming over him.

"Coward! You gave your word! 'To the death,' she said!" 

The crowds chanted: "To the death! To the death!"

Sarah steeled her nerves. No trembling lip or watery eye would go into the Underground's history books regarding her moment of victory. 

The blade glinted in the light.

"I am not a coward. I am Queen Sarah, Sovereign Ruler of the Underground. And you - are no more."

He drew in a breath - his last - and the blade drove home, severing his two-faced head from his body.

Sarah awoke, blinking rapidly in the pre-dawn light. "My kingdom is as great.."

Jareth stirred. "A dream?"

She shook her head. "A clue. All this time we just assumed the Prophecy was referring to YOUR kingdom. What if it's mine?"

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I don't follow."

Sarah was sitting up, reliving it, turning it around in her mind. "My kingdom was destroyed before - first by my feelings for you, then by my leaving."

He started to catch on. "You shattered the crystals, the illusions - "

"We each had a hand in that. You tried to show me my real self, but I refused to see. Then, while we were apart, I built new illusions - "

"A new kingdom."

" - only to have *it* destroyed when I found the clues at the hospice."

He was holding her now, letting it all sink in.

"I still don't understand the sun and the moon. Or the last line: 'Tear down the walls and let love in..'"

Both awake now, they tended to bodily needs. "How many days has it been?," she asked as he returned from behind the barn.

"Tomorrow is the day, Sarah. We can't hide any longer. Today may be.."

He couldn't say it. She knew; they both did.

"Should we stay here?"

It was safe - in some ways. They were literally at the edge of what was left of the Underground; an unlikely and unappealing spot. On the other hand.. 

"Where would *you* like to go?"

She was moved by his consideration. "I'd like to revisit the old places - just in case I.. we.." 

He understood. "Sarah.. Bear in mind that they won't be as you remember them."

She glanced at the figure on the plate - what was left of him. The wax had melted into the crude outline of a heart. "I know. Everything here changes. Nothing lasts." Sarah glanced once more at the makeshift bed they had shared. She wanted.. she just wanted.

"Come on. Let's gather up some supplies. No sense in them going to waste."

As an afterthought, after loading up on food and water, Sarah dipped once more into the horde of effigies. Choosing a handful of them, she whispered thanks and closed the door, leaving them alone once more in their earthen home.

They had until dawn, if that, to finish preparing for the battle of the worlds.


	17. Old Times, New Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whirlwind tour of the past brings help - and hope - for the future

"First stop, the enchanted forest." 

The trees were dying; Sarah could feel their pain. Jareth could see she was in distress, taking her hand and hoping that some of the pain would transfer to him.

"Don't take it upon yourself. This is my pain; I chose to come here." Then, "I'm the one who left. This happened because of.."

The screech of a bird - or birdlike creature - interrupted her thoughts. "No matter what happens, I'm not sorry. Please know that."

He seemed so sincere. "It isn't real. It isn't.." Her brain tried to remember.

With food inside him and a few hours' sleep, Jareth seemed better. He wondered if it was the last rally of strength before the end. Sarah pushed the idea as far away from herself as possible.

"I remember this tree." She rested a hand upon it. "This is where I stopped to rest after eating a bite of the peach."

"How can you be sure?"

She gave him a look. "I'm sure. This is the one." Sarah sat down. "Thank you - for the illusion. I'd never danced like that before."

"You haven't danced since," he pointed out.

"No. I haven't wanted to." Her gaze was full of meaning, and he sat beside her, imagining that day. Had it only been three years ago?

"Why didn't you kiss me?"

The question caught him off-guard. "Well, I'm.." He didn't want to disclose his exact age; mortals were so funny about that sort of thing. "I felt it would be.. crossing a line. Though, had you initiated it, I can't swear I would have restrained myself."

She laughed. "Such flattery."

"Sarah, you were barely fifteen. It's different for mortals."

She toyed with the cracked earth between them, swirling spirals into the dirt with the tip of her finger. Endless, looping labyrinth spirals. "Have you ever been in love before? I mean, really in love?"

Time was short. Lies were futile, and, worse, insulting. "Not before. Lust, yes. Love - no."

That seemed to get her thinking, and he wished he could read her. Then again, he was relieved he couldn't.

"I've never felt this way, Jareth. I'm not a scared girl with a crush; I'm.."

"A woman. I know." He tilted her chin towards him, ready to kiss her. Something hard conked him squarely on the head.

"A woman who knows what she wants," she went on, until something hit her, too. "Ow!"

Jareth sighed. "It's time to go, darling."

As she stood, her foot caught against a tree root, and she topple forward. Another object pelted her, this time on the backside. "That's IT!"

Sarah pulled herself into a crouch, feeling around for something with which to return fire. She couldn't see their assailants, but she knew when she hit her mark, judging by the squawks and curses. Rocks, peach pits, prickly burs - all were lobbed at the invisible assailants by both Sarah and Jareth. 

"Go ahead and tell 'them' I'm here! I'll be waiting at dawn!" Sarah was fed up of running, tired of hiding. The uncertainty of it all had taken a toll.

She grabbed Jareth by the arm, willing them to part of the Hedge Maze. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen or heard, so they began to walk, aimlessly. With no pressure to finish the labyrinth, she could take the time to really look at it.

There were small hints of green here and there, and she could recall the colors of the stone, the blue of the sky, the gurgle of the fountains from before. They sat on the cracked edge of one such fountain, and her fingers trailed idly in the murky water.

"The moon becomes the sun.."

Jareth tried to muster words before they failed him - possibly forever. "I may not be able to stand with you when you fight. I'm growing weak; I don't want to be a liability."

"What do you mean? Where will you be?"

He didn't have an answer for her.

"Just know that I'll be within you."

"That's.. I thought you couldn't live within me?" She was remembering the song now, and he took up the thread of it.

"Your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be so cruel. Though I do believe in you; yes, I do.." After a moment, "Love isn't always kind, Sarah. If I am restored, there will be more.. tension between us. It won't be as easy as you think."

"Nothing ever is - nothing that's worth it, I mean." Her fingers caught something on the bottom of the fountain, and she pulled it up to examine it. 

"It looks silver. But.. the other side is gold." Her hand dipped in again, and she located another piece. The two seemed to fit together. "Jareth, will you - "

He was ahead of her, fishing in the shallow sludge for more pieces. They emerged, one by one, drying in the pale sun. Sarah worked to join them together again.

"An amulet," Jareth breathed. 

"Not yours, though?"

He shook his head. They had pieced it all together, but there was a hole near the center.

"Pity we couldn't find the last bit."

Sarah placed her hand over the metal, willing it to forge into a whole. The cracks were sealed, but the amulet was still incomplete. Like her heart. Like HIS. 

"Sarah.." His hand rested atop hers. 

"Please don't say it. Don't say this could be goodbye."

He sighed. "Today or tomorrow, either one will find us at the end."

Sarah bit her lip. "I can't.. I can't let you go again."

He tried to soothe her. "If you save my kingdom, you'll always know where I am. I'll go on, knowing you're living your life, that you have the power in yourself to make your dreams a reality. No need for crystals or fairy tale princes," he smiled, poking fun at himself.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he caught it on his gloved finger. They both watched as the tear turned to gold, pliable but hardening fast.

"Jareth, put it in the amulet."

He nudged it into place, and the piece was whole. As he held it up to the light, the silver turned to gold, until both sides were identical. Sarah touched it, and felt the power it held.

"It's changed. It looks like - "

All around them, the day seemed to grow brighter, until they had to squint. "Sarah..?"

"I had on an amulet in my dream. I was the Queen, and I defeated a Janus figure."

Jareth's eyes grew softer, flecks of gold materializing there. "Queen of the Underground?"

"Yes. I saw the battle. You weren't watching, but you were with me. I could feel it."

He nodded. "You, a Queen, did what is traditionally a King's job."

She got it then. "The moon became the sun."

"And two became one. Alchemy; you've turned something into gold, Sarah. Two substances, now pure gold."

They were so close. "What about the rest?" They were missing something; she knew it.

"Perhaps your next stop will help us. Where to?" Jareth could make out unnatural movement in the dead branches, and Sarah had one last stop in mind.

"I hope this works. I wish.."

Clutching Jareth and the amulet, she vanished once more.


	18. Last Chance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah wants to give Jareth a gift

Iridescent swirls of color surrounded them. Jareth felt disoriented; this didn't look like any part of his kingdom he'd ever known. Perhaps his mind was going.. 

"This isn't quite real." Sarah said what he'd been thinking, wanting to believe the beauty all around them, but struggling to keep the faith. Objects seemed.. soft, blurred around the edges; colors bled and shifted with her focus, making the scene dreamlike.

"Where *are* we?"

Sarah smiled, twisting on her heels. "I took the memories of our dance, and I made.. this." She gestured to the their finely-furnished surroundings. "In case things don't go well tomorrow, I wanted to give you one more evening of being King. I wanted to.. to share in that life with you - even if it's only pretend."

He was deeply moved. "After all I put you through, holding your dreams just out of reach - you came back to help me. Now you've created this - wonderful illusion, allowing me to be my former self once more." He wanted to find the words to thank her, but her face disarmed him, rendering his tongue a useless slab of muscle. Jareth tested his hand against the wall, finding it strong but malleable; it would not shatter. "It isn't a crystal," he mused. "More of a .. bubble, really. Very clever." Sarah's eyes were shining, the love within them threatening to spill out.

"Oh, my precious girl." He pulled her close, and they spent several moments like that, just being. The illusion was complete enough to obscure their true location from him, showing how much her powers had increased. "I do believe you've caused me to get lost in my own labyrinth. What would Hoggle make of that, mm?" In truth, he was glad she hadn't conjured up any other guests; this was perfect - just the two of them.

"I can feel the anger of the others - the usurpers. I feel the fear and the sadness, too. It's all waiting for us, out there. In just a few hours - "

"Shh. All of that is outside. WE are inside. This is Sarah's bubble - "

"Sarah and JARETH'S bubble," she corrected.

"As you say. And nothing and no one can spoil it. For now, this is the entire world." 

She began to sway gently, and he yielded to her, allowing her to lead. Jareth was taken aback when she reached for his hands. "Dance with me?" There was a childish lilt of uncertainty to her voice, which did not befit a Queen. 

"Sarah, from this moment onwards, please assume that I am *always* agreeable to ANYthing requiring our bodies to be pressed close together." It was awkward at first without music, but theirs was an internal rhythm, their bodies synchronizing with minimal effort. 

"You're the tick to my tock," she murmured, and once again, he was reminded of the brevity of their time together.

Jareth began to sing, almost in a trance: (to the tune of As The World Falls Down)

"If I could hold time in the palm of my hand  
We'd have forever, and here we would stand  
My Queen of Hearts  
I'd stop the world  
My Queen of Hearts

If tears were diamonds, and kisses were pearls  
You'd be the crown jewel, my sapphire girl  
My Queen of Hearts  
I'd crown my love  
The Queen of Hearts

As the time ticks by  
Give us one more try  
Though you left before Now you're here with me once more  
And I know that it's true - ooh - ooh You're my Queen of Hearts 

(Queen of)  
(Queen of Hearts)  
(Queen of my Heart)

I'll be devoted to you, I'll sing you ballads each evening  
We're from two different worlds, but choosing this path,  
My Queen of Hearts  
Please wear my ring,  
Oh Queen of Hearts.."

Here, Sarah began to weep, silently, as they danced. Her mother used to call it a rainbow moment: when you cry because you're happy, it's like the sun shining through the rain, making all the colors of the spectrum. She rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"Though my kingdom's small (if it's there at all),  
Every rule I break and every risk I take it's true  
It will all be for you - ooh - ooh For my Queen of Hearts.." 

Jareth found himself growing dizzy, and Sarah led him to a chaise before he realized what she was doing. His body reclined against the soft cushions, and Sarah settled herself snugly beside him. 

"Did you mean it? What you asked?" 

He caressed her face, his fingers coming away coated in gold. "I never lie through song, Sarah."

More gold trickled down; she couldn't help it. "It's all so strange.. How could we make it work? I'd have to choose between the worlds." Sarah thought of her studies, the plays, and all the familiar comforts of her old life. Then she thought of Jareth, of learning more magic and making her own 'normal.' Wasn't that infinitely more appealing?

"You've already given me so much. I know I could never feel for anyone else as I feel for you, Sarah. I can't promise you splendor, or even time; I can only offer you myself."

"I can't imagine myself wanting anything more. I can't imagine anyone else.." She didn't even want to finish the thought.

"Am I being horribly selfish?"

She smiled. "If you are, then so am I - and we deserve each other."

Sarah took a sip of the borrowed well water. When Jareth held out his hand, expecting Sarah to pass it to him, she shook her head, moving closer and pressing her lips to his. As he enticed her to open her lips, water slid from her mouth to his, warm and sweet.

"I wish I could pour some of my health into you," she whispered against his kiss. "Some of my life."

Jareth blanched. "Sarah, take that back. You just made a wish."

Her eyes grew dark with worry. "I didn't mean.. I mean, I *do* want to heal you, but - "

He kissed her again, staving off panic. Her powers were strong, but rules were rules; there would be a consequence for her mistake, of that he felt certain. "We should rest. Such a lovely evening to float through the forest - or wherever we are. Do you think this bubble will dissolve before dawn?"

His tone was light, contrasting with his mood. With his profession of love, he had made her careless, and Sarah had let those dangerous words fall from her lips. She merely murmured something unintelligible, already slipping into a dream within a dream. 

*I wish I could pour some of my health into you. Some of my life.*

Those words echoed, swirling inside his head as Sarah drifted off to the lullaby of his heart.

He sent out a silent plea to the powers awaiting them: Please do not harm her. Do not bind her to her words. Do as you wish with me, but let her live.

The last thing Jareth sensed before closing his eyes was the distant rumble of thunder.


	19. Jareth's Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what it says

Jareth met with members of the Council in his dream. Not by choice; but one never had much choice in whether or not to answer to the Council.

"Why am I here?" The old Jareth was showing now, his tone raw annoyance, his posture cock-sure. The Council members were non-plussed.

"Jareth, deposed King of the Underground, you are hereby charged with the following: Endangering the future of all magical beings and dimensions. Consorting with a mortal for romantic purposes. Creating a new song using an old tune. Stealing objects of a magical nature - "

Here, he interrupted, his ire genuine. "What the devil are you on about? What objects?"

The speaker checked the parchment. "Well water from the edge of the abyss. Food from the Carver's larder. Graven poppets. The heavenly amulet. Shall I continue?"

Jareth waved a hand, as if all this was simply too ridiculous. "Why not?"

"Two fur blankets. Alchemy. Invisibility - "

He wanted to correct them - it was, in fact, *Sarah* who had done most of the .. borrowing, not him. Something told him it wouldn't be wise to point that out.

"And if I return the items, what then?"

The Council shook their heads. "There is no time. You will be among us before the battle's end."

Jareth froze. He needed to choose his words carefully. "It isn't standard procedure to inform one hours before their.. event. Why am I different?"

The Council exchanged glances, a telepathic discussion to which Jareth was not privy. Could not be.

"We the members of the Council are offering you the chance to redeem yourself. The prophecy will be fulfilled regardless of your decision, but we prefer that you not take your place in its glory. The girl will fight, but she will do so without your presence."

He was floored. To be sure, he had only enough magic left in him to sustain life for another day or two at best; but to be asked to leave her, to not even be permitted to watch her fight! - 

"These are our terms. If you agree to abide by our wishes, we shall grant you leniency in the afterlife and allow you a final request." In his mind, Jareth saw visions of Sarah in battle. In some scenarios, she was the victor; in others, she sustained a mortal wound. The final scenarios were too grisly for him to stomach, and he tried to shut them out.

"I still don't get it. Why should you care whether I'm there or not? Is there anything in the prophecy which forbids my presence at the battle?"

"Admittedly, there is not. We aren't asking this of you merely for your own benefit. If you are at the battle, the enemies will be more motivated to destroy the girl, knowing you will see her die."

"Sarah," Jareth said, feeling he had cursed her somehow.

"Do you accept our request?"

"I die either way?"

They nodded as one.

Sarah needed to survive the battle, no matter the outcome. "What final request am I permitted to make?"

The Council laid out their terms, and Jareth stated his. The back-and-forth continued all night, a sleeping Sarah blissfully unaware. As day broke, the two sides reached an agreement, and Jareth signed away his life in exchange for hers.

"The girl lives, or so help me I'll invoke every god, demon and half-witted sprite in the cosmos and exact my revenge upon every one of you unto the tenth generation." He had to begin to distance himself from her emotionally; Sarah was now 'the girl.'

The Council faded into the mists, and Jareth stirred. 

"Mmm. Morning." Then, "Wait -*is* it morning? Already? That means - "

"Yes. You must prepare, Sarah."

The coldness of his tone startled her. "Bad night?"

Jareth ignored her question, moving around the 'room' in search of anything of use to her. "The walls are very thin. They know where we are by now."

She stood, straightening her sleep-worn clothing. "Good. I'm ready. I don't care if they can hear me, or see me, or even.. smell me. I'm not afraid."

He felt it then - the guilt. She wasn't afraid because she had the goodness of his love inside of her. She knew who she was, what she wanted, what she was fighting for.. and he was going to take that from her.

"Remember," a voice warned him, creeping up the back of his neck and slithering into his ear.

"I know, I know. The parchment. Damn it all."

"Pardon?"

He caught himself. "Just.. trying to figure out that last part of the verse." 

Sarah frowned. "Tearing down walls and letting love in? I think we got that pretty well covered last night." They hadn't consummated, but he knew she felt it. The two had become one in every other way.

When Jareth didn't reply, she busied herself with breakfast. Jareth refused food, taking only water; they were almost out of both.

"Where does the prophecy say the battle takes place?"

"The castle, of course."

His tone stung. "Oh. Of course." She wondered what she'd done wrong, but took his hand anyway. "I wish.. I wish.."


	20. Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When you give someone the power to save you, you give them the power to destroy you as well." - Chuck Hogan
> 
> Love and conquer (not necessarily in that order)

The castle was abuzz with anticipation. The 'arena' was a ring, just as in her dream - though there were more opponents. Sarah still wondered what it meant that she cut the head of off the god of beginnings and endings, but there was no time left to speculate. As she approached the doorway, Jareth stopped her.

"Do you have to announce me or something?" She tried for levity, but failed. His face fell.

"I can't go with you, Sarah."

She was incredulous. "Why the hell not? You've been by my side for, what, four days now? Eating, sleeping, teaching, and.. other things - and now you're - "

He was so pale, so drawn. He hadn't seemed this ill last night.

"Where are you going?"

He had told her the truth so far, and it had nearly killed him. Lying was going to be even harder. "I can't go with you. It's forbidden."

"Oh." It didn't make sense, and it was unfair; in other words, his statement had all the hallmarks of Underground logic. She brightened a little. "But you'll be allowed in once it's over, right?"

"I.." He took a step toward her, then caught himself. "Remember what I taught you, Sarah. This is less about brute strength and more about inner wounds."

She could feel inner wounds forming already as he backed away.

"Jareth?"

He clenched his teeth.

"Jareth, what about.. us? All the things we felt, the things we did, and the stuff we DIDN'T get to - "

He had to hurt her to help her. Such was life.

"Sarah, I warned you. I warned you that I would teach you, and that we mustn't get carried away. That we mustn't lose ourselves."

That had seemed so long ago. That was before - before they'd let their guards down, before she'd fallen - 

"Are you saying it isn't real?"

His life was a flickering flame; Jareth wondered that he didn't turn transparent. "Sarah."

"Tell me. I'm a big girl. Tell me before I go in there and fight YOUR battle, for YOUR future. Is it for you, or is it for us?"

"It's for all of us."

She nodded. How had she been such a fool? Fool me once, shame on you..

"But mostly for you."

The tears made her vision wash gold, and she blinked them away.

"Alright, Jareth. I'll fight. Without you. You skulk off to wherever you go - some hole full of grog, or some den full of fawning whores - "

He bit his tongue. 

" - while I defend everything you lost and everything you could lose. I'm not doing it for love; oh, no. I'm doing it because it's right. I'm doing it because it's real. THIS - " she took it all in with a sweep of her hand - "is real. And when I leave, I want to know that it's still here. Do you know why?"

It was all he could do to muster the energy to shake his head.

"Because I want you to get well. I want you to live a long, long life without me, Jareth. I don't wish you dead, even after.. "

Sarah couldn't anymore. It was now or never. The crowd was bordering on a riot, baying for bloodshed. She would not disappoint.

"Remember." The word came out hoarsely, weak and pathetic.

"I'll always remember. Every. Last. Bit of it. Goodbye, Jareth."

He watched her go. With her back turned, he no longer had to hide his labored breathing. Stumbling around a corner, he slid against the wall, his lungs groaning for air. With every fiber of his being, he wished for her to succeed.

"I love.." He was falling into himself, and there was no one outside to hear him. They were all in the arena, waiting for her.

For She Who Would Be Queen.

\-----------------------------------------  
The archway was only a foot above her head, but the arena seating seemed to stretch up into the heavens. On the far side sat the monarchs of the invading lands, each waiting their turn against this 'Chosen One.' There were goblins, of course, but there were also creatures Sarah couldn't identify - beings of a nightmare, fever hallucinations, horror movie villains, all. She could feel the power of her anger percolating nicely; that would do to start with. After that, she could draw upon grief, old and new. If she needed to, she would use the love Jareth had just trampled upon - but only if she had to. She was worried that it would get lost in the anger and grief, and that she'd lose the feeling forever.

As much as she was hurting, she still loved him. "I'll never forget. I don't want to. And I'm not sorry. I wouldn't take any of it back."

Her thoughts tried to reach him, but he was in too much pain. Every breath was counted.

Sarah looked up at the beings who wanted her dead. "I have come. Who wishes to do battle with me first?"

A tall, grotesque beast rose from his seat. "My son, Prince Ayakku of the Trolls, shall fight the Chosen One."

She could read the pretender's heart: there was no love there for his son. Cowering behind his father's seat was a lanky youth with no malice in his eyes. Sarah made a decision.

"No."

The crowd fell silent.

"NO?" The 'king' stood taller, his hairy muscles rippling.

"I will fight the KING of the Trolls. The Prince is spared."

There was uproar among the assembled squatters. "This is against protocol!"

"So is taking another man's kingdom," she spat back, undaunted. The jeers of the onlookers were directed at the Troll.

"Very well. I shall fight you." Then, to make the prospect of failure even more horrifying, "If I best you, m'lady, I shall have the right to give your hand to any male in this arena!"

She stared him down. "IF you win, you can give my hand to whomever you wish - along with any other body part you sever from me. I won't be owned."

Several of the females whistled and stomped at Sarah's defiance. The Troll King was furious.

"Bring me my sword!"

From over his father's shoulder, the young prince's eyes shone with gratitude at her mercy. Sarah sensed that killing the king would be doing the prince a favor.

As the two opponents took up their marks, a crier announced the rules.

"Each party shall use only whatever magic powers or objects were in or on their persons at the commencement of the battle. No outside interference is allowed."

Several disappointed 'awwws' rippled through the crowd.

"Each victor reserves the right to choose either vanquishment or death for their opponent."

Excited chatter and speculation gripped the arena.

"And finally, the last man - or woman - standing has the right to assume full title and ownership of the Underground."

Sarah gulped. If she won, she'd be - 

"BATTLE COMMENCE!"

Somewhere not far away, but far enough for it to sting, Jareth was prone on the floor, hanging on by a thread.


	21. Round One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah versus the Troll King

Sarah was ready. The amulet around her neck grew warm as the power flowed between it and her, building, rolling into a ball in the pit of her stomach. The sword, a hastily-chosen blade from the castle armory, now felt light in her grip, natural, like an extension of her arm; she knew she would use it, would call upon every ounce of strength inside her to defend this world - and all others. She feared for the lad if she lost; his father would - but there was no place for such dark imaginings. 

The King was less experienced in hand-to-hand combat than he led others to believe, preferring to stay out of harm's way and allow others to suffer for him. He was also grossly overweight, even for a creature of his height. Already, he seemed out of breath, and they'd barely begun to circle one another.

Trolls, by their very nature, love to bait others in order to cause emotional pain and provoke outbursts. The King of their kind was no exception.

"Here alone? No army of dogs and rocks this time?"

Those near enough to overhear tittered and barked at the barb.

"I'm not the same person I was before."

"Indeed not. You haven't even bothered to look for them, have you? Haven't asked after their well-being?"

Sarah knew she hadn't. She didn't know who to trust here, and besides, she didn't want more bad news.

"Even IF they're alive, you think they'll want YOU as Queen? Silly girl. Couldn't even keep the King interested for more than a few days.."

She hefted her sword, swinging it in an arc and missing him by inches. He laughed at her anger.

"Plenty more where that came from," he oozed. 

"Maybe I don't NEED a king, or any consort."

THAT caught him off-guard, and Sarah landed a thrust, gashing his side. 

"No consort? Pretty thing like you? I wager there'll be plenty males here who'd love to sire a royal bastard."

Whoops and cat-calls turned her stomach. Prince Ayakku was staring at her in admiration, looking even younger than he had moments ago. She hazarded another attempt, wounding the Troll King across his outer thigh.

"Oh ho! Didn't hit where it counts. From what I've heard, that's a habit of yours."

Was he seriously mocking her for still being a virgin? "Pity. It might have lanced some of your boils."  
Several high-pitched squeals of wicked glee filled the air, the vindication of many a jilted courtesan.

Her insult stoked the fire in him, and he charged, half-blinded by rage. Sarah's sword met his abdomen, and he made a grotesque gurgling sound. She tried to withdraw, but the weapon was wedged too deeply by his momentum. He was stuck, as was she.

The anger grew cold as the reality of his situation began to sink in. "Finish it. Let me die a warrior's death, with honor."

"You ran at my sword, sir. You slew yourself. That makes me the victor, and you, a double loser."

Sarah released the handle of the weapon, watching as his balance gave out. The Troll King was staggering backwards, clutching at the imbedded metal and making animalistic howls and groans. Ayakku watched as the sands turned cranberry, his father and tormentor crumpling to the ground in a heap. No final insult, no glorious, immortalizing prose, no prayers of contrition - in short, nothing of worth came from his mouth as he breathed his last. 

No one had entered the arena to be with their leader, to offer comfort or assist in any way. Sarah wondered if THAT was against protocol.

As the body settled, a team of munchkins, as tall as Sarah's knees, scuttled into the space to scoop up the bloodied sand and make way for the next battle. Another, more significant team carried away the royal remains. When Sarah scanned the crowd, she found no trace of Ayakku. But there was no time to wonder or mourn for his loss.

"The Troll King is no more. Who else wants to taste my sword?"


	22. Giants, Daemons and Other Nasties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah has to defeat the leaders of the other invading lands. Will her powers - and her heart - be up to the task?

Jareth could hear the cheering from the arena, and feel the heavy footsteps of those assigned to carry out the dead for disposal. Turning his head with some effort, he saw a hulking, bloodied form in dark clothing. Not his Sarah. He relaxed slightly in relief.

"I will fight you." The voice boomed, eliciting a gasp from the crowd. The man was a giant, no doubt about that; as he stood to full height, Sarah knew she would face a more difficult battle this time around. He was lean and fit, and his rage was more controlled.

The creatures who had taken the Troll King's body had not yet returned her sword. "Where is my weapon?" 

Laughter made her blood run cold. 

"It's still stuck in the Troll King, right where you left it! Ha ha ha!" 

Sarah felt a fool. "Then allow me to choose another."

"You agreed to the rules: only what you have brought into the arena may be used in battle."

"But I - " She stopped herself. 

It wouldn't do to lose face here. Sarah nodded, resolving to fight without it. The giant smiled, but it came across as crooked. As he entered the arena, she saw his blade glinting in the light. 

"Of course, if you were to manage to *take* it from me during the fight, that would be a different matter."

She searched him for a moment. He reminded her of someone; something about the eyes, and the lopsided grin.. 

"Marian." She had said it under her breath, but his ears twitched, showing he had overheard. "Did you - did you know her?"

The giant took up his weapon. "No more talk."

"BATTLE COMMENCE!"

Sarah clapped her palms, rolling the energy into a ball. Remembering the feeling from the catacombs, she kept it going until there was a need for release - then 

*whoosh!*

The giant felt it, dazed for a moment. She worked faster, pointing at the sand and imagining a ring of flames - but he was moving around too much. The flames appeared, only to catch at his clothing, but it gave her an opening. As he batted at his own legs to extinguish the fire, she leaned over, grabbing his weapon.

A tug-of-war ensued, Sarah being jerked bodily as she held onto his wrist with both hands. He was distracted, the flames now singeing his thigh and buttocks as they swung around the arena. Something in her told Sarah to make her hands very hot, burning his wrist where she held him. It took more effort than she had hoped, but, in time, he began to hiss through his teeth about the pain.

"ENOUGH!," he bellowed, shaking free of her to swat at the flames with both hands.

"Roll on the sand, you over-sized oaf!," a spectator cried.

"It'll put out the fire!"

Once he was in position on the ground, Sarah drew up an outline of flames, burning inches from him in any direction. The sand was crackling, turning to glass as if struck by lightning. She had to keep the flames high, too high to step or jump over them. Thinking of Jareth's betrayals, distant and recent, kept her anger hot. 

He tried to get past the wall of fire, his backside now extinguished, but found that he was trapped. The Giant King grew red, from the scalp downward, until every inch of exposed skin was beetroot. "Release me." 

Sarah listened to the roar of the crowds, which seemed about evenly split between 'finish him' and 'let him out.'

He tossed his sword through the flames, letting it land at her feet.

"Sporting chance?" She shouldn't let him. It was too dangerous. It was - 

Sarah felt compassion threatening to dampen the flames. Picking up the sword, she handed it to an attendant, who had to reach for it several times in his state of shock.

"She's crazy!"

"What sort of a witch does she fancy herself to be!"

"Giving away her best weapon! Madness!"

Sarah wanted to win, but she wanted to do it bloodlessly this time. The Giant seemed to understand that, acknowledging her with a nod.. and almost a sort of vicarious pride in her bravery.

Out of nowhere, a spell began to form in her mind:

*Weapons brandished, armor worn,  
The battle may be fought  
But facing down one's own true form -  
A lesson learned and taught* 

Holding her amulet in front of her face, she began to speak:

"Let my true form be revealed  
And my foe's no more concealed."

A flash of light stunned the crowd. When it subsided, two figures occupied the arena: the one, a Queen in full armor; the other, an old woman with curly hair.

"It IS you! But J - uh, I was told you - "

Marian shook her head. "He didn't lie to you. He didn't know. I knew I'd find my way to another land when my time was up - but unfortunately, there was a curse to overcome before I could be at peace. Never cross the Fae, Sarah." Marian laughed, and in a twinkling of lights, she disappeared. 

The crowd was in pandemonium. "She made the Giant King turn into a woman and disappear!"

"That's cheating! Bring him back and kill him!"

"Where did she get that armor?"

The assembled royals were aghast. "Is that cheating?"

"If the Giant King was an impostor, or chose to leave, that's a victory for Sarah."

"But the armor - "

"It was in me when I arrived," Sarah piped up. "I've always had it in me. I just.." She realized. "I just never used it before."

The order was given for the castle and surrounding area to be searched thoroughly, but no sign of the Giant King was to be found. 

With her hands on her hips, she walked the circumference of the arena, noticing that almost half of the subjects now seemed to be rooting for her. Then again, things aren't always what they seem. Ayakku had still not returned.

There were three more foes to vanquish.

Meanwhile, Jareth was fading into that twilight state between the worlds, his body beginning to shut down. Thoughts became images rather than words, and he wanted Sarah's face, shining with happiness, to be the last memory ever to occupy his mind.

The third opponent was to be Valdor the Griffin, followed by Ezzira the Nasty, and, finally, Droch, King of the Daemons. Just looking at Droch was enough to make Sarah feel physically ill; she needed to use her wits and conserve energy for him. The Griffin opted to leave his sword behind, choosing instead to carry a length of rope. His battle style favored prolonged torture and humiliation, and he viewed Sarah as a sort of steer waiting to be lassoed. He had the head of an eagle, with front talons to match, and the body of a lion. The tip of his tail became a flame as it lashed back and forth. 

"Fire won't harm me, lady, so save yourself the bother," he growled.

Damn.

He had such sharp, unforgiving eyes, and he didn't seem to need to blink. Sarah willed herself not to blink, either. "BATTLE COMMENCE!" The two of them began to circle one another, Sarah's heart a thundering drum inside her chest. The Griffin's face betrayed no such emotion. His anger was rolling off of him in waves, and she decided to call upon grief to disarm it. Somewhere in her mind, she heard the voice of her mother.. 

"I will always love you. I'm sorry I wasn't the mother I should have been; I put my dreams and my passion before my duties. Can you forgive me, even if it's long after I'm gone?"

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she nodded, confusing the Griffin.

"I will. I *do*. I forgive you."

She hadn't noticed her lips moving, thinking her response was only inside of her mind - but the Griffin heard her, stumbling slightly in surprise as he moved.

Her mother again: "Never let anything or anyone prevent you from being happy, but remember that some things are more important than getting what you want. Don't neglect doing what's right in the pursuit of what you love."

Sarah felt that these words were needed now more than ever. She was thrown by how clearly she could sense her mother's presence, and hoped that feeling would never fade.

Toby's young voice entered her mind. "Sissy? Are the monsters going to come back?"

The shock of his intrusion made her stiffen slightly, clenching and unclenching her hands to ground herself in the moment. 

"No, Toby. I won't let them. I will fight them; I will make sure they can never, ever come back."

"They didn't hurt me, but they were scary - and they took me away from my home."

So he DID remember more than he was admitting. "I'm with them now, Toby. I won't let you down."

The pain of losing him before welled up inside of her, the regret over her own selfish wish years ago, added to the knowledge that, win or lose, she may never get to - 

As the tears flowed, the Griffin balked. "What are you doing?"

Sarah shook her head, flinging droplets of gold onto the sand. They quickly hardened into coins and charms, and munchkins scurried into the arena at risk of their lives to gather them up. Soon she was crying profusely - so much so that the ground she walked upon clinked as she moved. The crowd was ecstatic; everyone would go home with a valuable souvenir. 

The Griffin picked one up, turning it over. "What sort of devilry is this?"

She didn't know what he meant.

"These coins have JARETH'S LIKENESS on them!"

Most of the crowd gave a collective shrug. Gold was gold, and FREE gold was even better.

"So? Melt it down with your fire, Griffy, and make it into whatever you like!"

"Yeah! How about a golden pacifier for yerself, ya big bird-brained baby!"

The jeers enraged him, and he blew fire upon the pile of coins closest to him. The gold glowed hot, then melted, only to reform as new coins. Holding one between his talons, he roared,

"NOW they bear the image of this pretender! 'Queen Sarah'?" 

She continued to cry as though she'd never stop. The gold clung in flecks to her hair and armor, but not to her skin; the Griffin was not so fortunate. It began to run in rivulets through the sand, clinging to his feet, matting his fur. When the tip of his tail dragged the ground, the flame was covered, and that was the last straw. 

"ENOUGH foolishness!" He began to swing the crude lasso, making his first attempt to capture her. Sarah gathered tears in her hand, hurling it at the rope in mid-air. The rope lost its pliability, holding its shape; it would not tighten or loosen now. He threw it down in disgust, and the weight of it made a satisfying thump on the sand, making the money-minded watchers salivate.

"Solid gold! Not gold plate!"

The Griffin would have to find another weapon. Pulling out a dagger, he charged at her, but Sarah did not cower. As she whirled out of harm's way, one of the carved figurines fell from within her clothing. The figure began to shake, as though an earthquake were taking place, and then, to grow.

"Voodoo!"

"Witch!"

Sarah was as stunned as the others, watching in mute shock as the figure came to life. It was just as horrible in the flesh as it had been in wax, but she fished in her folds for another figure, then another. When they were all assembled, the Griffin was decidedly outnumbered - and furious about it.

"It isn't cheating," she sniffled. "They were with me when I - "

"Grrr! Very well. I'll make short work of your wax army," the Griffin vowed. 

The army seemed to be picking up the coins, and she wasn't sure how to command them. It turned out she didn't need to; they were rubbing themselves with the gold, coating themselves in it. They formed a ring around her, effectively blocking the Griffin from being able to stab her.

The Griffin tried again and again to pierce through her defenses, bending and breaking the tips and blades of multiple daggers. Even his enhanced flint-tipped arrows, wielded in his strong claws, couldn't make them waver.

Sarah stood in the center, still crying, creating a puddle which covered the feet of all of the helpers, linking them. "I have to think of another weapon," she mused, trying to focus in the chaos of screams, squawks and grunts. The Griffin drew back a few paces, taunting her.

"Are you going to come out and fight me, or are you going to let your poppets take all the blows?"

"Defense is just as valid as offense. I am their Queen, and they are doing the duty of faithful subjects." What made her say that?

The figures began to shrink, melding with the puddle of gold. Sarah wondered if that had been a predetermined event, or if she had done something to trigger it; either way, it left her open to attack, and without a back-up strategy.

"Oh ho! Your 'subjects' have deserted their posts!" He made his way toward her, and she let out a sob: "Please!"

The Griffin sneered, thinking it a plea for his mercy, a plea which would not be honored - but then the mass at her feet began to solidify once more. All of the figures had melted together in order to form one looming opponent. The metal monster's strong arms opened to her, and she decided to trust, allowing it to lift her up. Settled upon his shoulders, she was now taller than the Griffin. The figure's visage shifted among several grotesque faces - several pairs of eyes winking and blinking and staring - and it was disorienting to the Griffin. Out of each of the creature's hands, a golden sword formed.

"That's not fair!" The Griffin truly DID need a pacifier.

"Nothing is fair," said Sarah. She thought of her mother's death, long and painful; she thought of all that she could lose - all that the worlds could lose - if the villains won; and she thought of Jareth..

The creature charged at the Griffin, swords slicing quicker than thought. He retreated, cursing, invoking gods and ancestors, but to no avail. After a few turns around the ring, she taunted him.

"Are you going to fight?"

Pausing for a moment, he reared back, bellowing flame and smoke from his pointed beak. The heat stung, but did not singe. He gathered a breath, trying again, and again, huffing and puffing himself out.

"Will you surrender?"

The crowd chimed in:

"Don't be a fool! He'll kill you!"

"Bow down to the Queen; save your sorry hide!"

"Kill 'im!"

Sarah waited. "Well?"

The Griffin shook his head no. He didn't seem very sure of himself anymore, but the fate of a coward could be worse than death. 

"As you wish."

The Griffin fought with his talons, lashed with his tail, pecked with his beak, but, other than dents and faint scratches, he left no mark. Sarah continued to dwell upon her sadness, and it seemed to fuel the creature, the swords finding flesh time and time again. She didn't feel pity for him, but there was a sadness to his impending death. 

The wounds up to now had been bad, but none of them were fatal in and of themselves. The creature seemed to be tiring, and Sarah gave the command. 

"Let's make an end of this."

The creature rose both swords, bringing a swell of gasps from the crowd. In a unified movement, both weapons came crashing down. Sarah forced herself to watch every bit of the carnage, the Griffin's life-force spilling out onto the sand. The blood filled the gaps between the gold, which the munchkins were eyeing greedily from the sidelines, wary of getting in the way of the action until it was over.

The crowd was going wild, the munchkins cleaning up the coins and charms as fast as they could, while their coworkers removed what was left of the Griffin.

As the last of the scattered gold left the arena, her crying ceased. The beast began to shrink once more, never to rise again. Sarah watched as it became a puddle of wax, all traces of gold gone. 

"Thank you," she murmured, grateful for their help and wishing she could repay them somehow.

The King of the Nasties fled with his entourage, unwilling to face Sarah. The crowd was elated, though some grumbled over the proper pay-out of the Nasty bets.

It was time to face her final challenger: the king of the Daemons.


	23. So Close, and Yet..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some enemies are worse than others

Sarah knew that a Daemon here wasn't a 'demon' in a religious sense. At least, she hoped that was true. 

Droch didn't seem upset about the loss of his comrades, and Sarah tried to read him as she'd read the others - but was unable to do so. His energy was so dense and dark, she couldn't get her bearings while looking directly at him.

"BATTLE COMMENCE!"

Sarah was disheartened to notice that some of the spectators were filing out, as though the fight was a done deal. Were they assuming she was doomed?

The majority chose to stay, and Sarah squared her shoulders, ready to face her destiny. She had no more wax figures at her disposal, and she seemed to have temporarily exhausted her tears. What sort of powers did Droch have? What were his tactics? 

Droch seemed to be standing still, doing nothing - until Sarah felt an overwhelming sense of psychic pain threatening to take hold. Without crystals or songs, he was showing her her worst memories and deepest fears. She stared at his feet, but her vision was soon obscured by these images, starting from when she was very small.

He replayed the emotions of her mother leaving. Sarah had packed her bag, expecting to be taken, too, wondering what Daddy had done to warrant their leaving - but her mother had kissed her on the head and told her to be a good girl. Sarah could see her child self, leaving that packed bag for days, then weeks, shoving it under her bed so as not to look at it anymore. Under the bed became a dark, scary, forbidden place, crammed with emotions she could neither name nor express. She tried to be good, for Daddy's sake. Good girls didn't cry, didn't ask too many questions..

Then came her stepmother. "I already HAVE a mother!," Sarah yelled. Daddy had spent time with different women over the years, but none of them had come to stay. That was the pattern: Daddy had a friend, Sarah met the friend, Sarah didn't like the friend (or the friend didn't like Sarah), and then it was just Sarah and her dad again. This one wouldn't back down. She was the opposite of Mom: conservative, domesticated, unemotional.. And she tried. Sarah realized, the woman *had* tried, to love her, to understand her.. Things seemed so different, looking back. Was it too late?

The images jumped around - every rejection from her peers, every failed test, every rebuff from a boy, every lackluster audition.. Her father worrying about her.. Her brother looking at her as though he could see something in her, some defect she couldn't figure out.. Every painful, embarrassing, or dangerous event, including the hospice, the loss of those people she'd known only briefly. Somehow the thought of Briony and Carwyn gave her a slight defense to the darkness, and she tried to focus on them. They must be healed now; they must be finding a nice family, someone to care for them, to give them all that they deserved.

Droch seemed angrier, determined to break her. "The past in that world wasn't enough pain? Very well. Let's try THIS one."

Jareth was there, inches from her face, but transparent. He looked.. wrong; sick, as expected, but there was a glaze to his eyes. He wasn't moving; the chest did not rise and fall..

"Is he dead?" Sarah wanted to cry, found that she needed to, but could not.

"Almost. Before the end of the battle, he will be."

He had known. He had sensed it, and by leaving her, he had tried to spare her that. Didn't he know she wanted to be there for him, come what may?

"He doesn't love you. He proved that when he left you alone to face me."

Sarah hazarded a glance at Droch's face. The hatred there was palpable.

"He.. You don't know him at all."

"I know he let you defeat him before, weakening his world. I know he risked everything - everyone - to go back and find you. You? A girl unfit to lace the stays of a Queen? HA!"

She did know him. Didn't she? She thought she did. What if -

"All lies. You know what men are, mortal or no. You know what they want, and it isn't 'love.'"

Several creatures in the gallery cheered in lusty agreement.

"You're wrong. You don't understand; how could you? You're incapable of love - giving or receiving."

Droch bristled at the very word. 

Sarah knew what she'd need to defeat him. 

"I loved him then." She felt her voice gathering strength, despite the pain. "I loved him before I knew what that meant. And I love him still."

"Even after he left you?"

She had to speak carefully; she needed time to get to him, if only to say goodbye. Droch mustn't know the whole truth of what Jareth meant to her. 

"Love isn't conditional. That's what makes it love."

Droch growled, a low rumble which made the ground vibrate. "Love is weakness."

He showed her Jareth, struggling for air, unable to move, trapped in a shell of pain.

"What will happen to him?"

Droch grinned, showing rows and rows of gleaming teeth. "You can't begin to imagine the horrors of the afterlife for one such as him."

"Was he truly so wicked?"

"More than you would believe. More than you could stomach."

She feigned a stumble, clutching her temples, trying to massage away the agony. "You're lying."

"I may be an accomplished liar, but here is the truth: He was no great king. They'll be better off with me as ruler. Imagine: the freedom to come and go between the worlds, all the evils the races will teach one another.."

"You're forgetting something."

Droch paused. "Oh?"

"All the love that will come and go between the worlds. All the goodness the races will teach one another."

This seemed to wound him. Sarah kept it going.

"Love is the greatest power in the universe. You can't kill it. You can't burn it, or cut it to pieces. I've felt it. I've LIVED it."

He extended an arm towards her, ready to expel force, but she didn't flinch. She summoned up all the love she could, imagining it as a thick barrier around her. His magic bounced back to him, knocking him to the ground.

Droch tried again, with the same effect. She stood, unmoved, praying for one last moment with her love. The barrier around her began to fill with a silver haze, obscuring her sight. She felt the blows, but the barrier endured.

Screams from the crowd indicated that magic was bouncing off in all directions, causing them to take cover or flee to safety. Sarah's love remained steady, the haze bathing her from all sides. She was able to breathe it; it was sweet and nourishing. When the blasts stopped, the haze cleared, and Sarah could see out once more.

Droch was waiting, his face inches from the glass-like surface. The hatred there was so powerful, cracks began to form. Sarah tried to close her eyes, but found that she couldn't, nor could she look away. His gaze was a bottomless well of darkness, and she was drowning.

At last, the barrier shattered with great force, raining shards across the sand. She fainted, and everything went black.

When she awoke, she found that she was not dead.

No. Her reality was to be much worse.


	24. Goodbye?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Droch's power was greater than she'd thought. Though temporarily sparing her life, Droch was by no means planning to show mercy.
> 
> An old friend comes to her aid..

Sarah awoke in a cell. It was dark, damp and cool, though there was a crack overhead allowing a shaft of light to seep through. She found that she had been stripped of her armor, though her clothing seemed intact. Other than a headache and a crushing sense of failure, she was physically in good shape.

Beside her lay the body of her beloved, barely breathing. Scarcely daring to trust what she was seeing, she caressed his face. Wasn't he supposed to be - ?

"Dead?"

The voice startled her. "Who's there?"

"It is I - Ayakku. I've been imprisoned with you as a traitor." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and Sarah wondered at this.

"I'm sorry. About everything. I mean, I didn't want to - to - "

"It's alright. He wasn't much of a father. Even less of a king. I'm better off."

"But how can you say that? You're a prisoner!"

"I was before, too. There are different kinds of prison, Sarah. You tried to set me free, me and all the others - even the ungrateful ones. At least now I get to thank you."

"I had hoped you'd get away somehow. Find a life somewhere."

He looked at her. "You were? Really?"

"Of course. I had nothing against you. You didn't do anything.." She was still stroking Jareth, his dear face, his hair.. "Why isn't he dead?"

Ayakku sighed. "The battle isn't over. Droch placed you here to rest while he decides what to do with you."

Images of what Droch might want to 'do' with her made her flinch, crumpling in on herself. "I'd rather he had killed me."

She leaned her head close to Jareth's chest, listening to his heart beat. "Jareth.. I'm sorry. I failed you. I failed everyone." She kissed him.

His lips parted. "No. It isn't over."

Sarah fairly screamed. "He said you'd be dead before the battle was over. I thought - "

Jareth opened his eyes with difficulty. "I made a deal with the Council. I was supposed to be gone before the end of the battle, but the battle isn't over yet. I suppose every moment of life I have left is at their discretion." 

Ayakku was duly impressed, which told Sarah that other kingdoms were aware - and in awe of - the Council, too.

She cradled her love's head in her lap. "Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone; if that meant giving up what I was already bound to lose, well, that seemed an obvious choice to make." 

The amulet began to grow warm again, lifting from her skin and swaying toward the Troll Prince - soon to be the Troll King.

"What is THAT?"

He had missed the battle against the Giant, Sarah realized. She looked at the amulet, taking a chance.

"I think it's meant for you," she said, unclasping it and handing it to Ayakku. He took it with reverence.

"It's the Travel Amulet." Ayakku put it around his own neck, and it glowed brighter.

Sarah blinked; Jareth waited, not moving.

"It allows the wearer to move between the worlds. We have our own prophecies about it, but I didn't think - "

Sarah had an idea. "If it allows you to move to other worlds, you could start over where no one knows you."

The longer he wore it, the less troll-like he seemed to be. "Do you think so?"

Sarah nodded. "My world is the only other one I know. It's pretty great."

Ayakku was considering it. "I can't just leave you two here. I can't accept your gift without giving you something in return."

Sarah thought. "Well, I would like to solve the rest of the prophecy, even if it doesn't help. Would that do?"

He grinned. "Trolls are experts at riddles and such. What's the part you're stuck on?"

Sarah rifled through the lines in her head. "There's a part about 'she who has a tongue no spell can temper' restoring all things, something about the moon becoming the sun as two are added to make one, and a tearing down of walls to let love in." 

Ayakku gave it some thought. Jareth couldn't believe he didn't just use the amulet to take off, but Sarah had a little more faith in him. "You're the one with a tongue no spell can temper. When Droch comes back, you need to keep talking. Your words have power. It's your best bet."

Jareth hoped that was all it would take, but..

Sarah was busy whispering to Jareth all the things she'd feared she would never get to say, interspersed with kisses. Ayakku was content to ignore the PDA as he worked on the words. In time, Jareth seemed to gain a little strength, her kisses seeming to feed him.

"The moon becoming the sun as two are added to make one.."

Sarah interjected, "I thought it was finding the amulet, making it whole again, turning it from gold and silver to just gold."

Ayakku nodded. "Part of it. I think there's something else." A sly grin played at his lips. "You're not, er, expecting, are you? That would be two adding to make one."

Sarah's shock was evident. "NO!"

Ayakku stifled a giggle. "Alright, I was only asking. I mean, it's not physically impossible for fae and mortals to - "

Sarah shook her head. "We haven't. Ever."

"Almost," Jareth chimed in.

Sarah blushed. "Right. But not.. all the way."

Ayakku gave that some thought. "What do you have to lose?"

Sarah realized he had a point. He went on. "What if that's the tearing down the walls and letting love in?"

Jareth sighed. "I did wonder that myself."

Sarah would've punched him on the arm, had he not been so ill.

Ayakku stood up, stretching. "I think you already know what your next move is. If I'm wrong - and I'm usually right - you'll be no worse off than you are now."

Jareth prayed for the strength.

Sarah swallowed, hard. "You've convinced me. It's worth a try. I.. Thank you, Ayakku. And good luck to you."

He seemed so human now, and not a bad-looking one at that. "I wish you luck as well. You've given me back my life twice now, and I'll never forget it. I wish there was something else I could do.."

Jareth tried to ask Sarah whether she wanted to try to go with Ayakku, but she shushed him with another kiss. He kissed back, surprising her with his force.

"My place is here, with my people. With my King."

"I'm not - "

"You'll always be MY King."

Ayakku had stayed long enough. "Farewell, Sarah. Jareth. For what it's worth, I promise to never invade your land. I promise to be a better being than my father was."

They watched as he vanished from sight.

With that, they were alone.


	25. Nothing to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sexy part! If you've stayed with the story this long, kudos to you.

Sarah was trembling as she kissed him again, stretching out on the ground beside him. "I love you, Jareth. I'm so sorry."

"I love you too, Sarah." After all the struggles to say it, and all the chances he'd had, it seemed an anti-climax to admit it out loud in a dark, damp dungeon as they waited to die. Still, at least it was said.

The kisses grew in intensity and duration, and Sarah felt the adrenaline of battle morphing into something deeper but no less thrilling. 

"Sarah.. When you kiss me, it seems to make me stronger." It wasn't said as a romantic compliment, but as a statement of observation.

"My wish.. Do you remember?"

She kissed him again, whimpering as one of his arms moved to pull her closer. His limbs were coming back to life - well, limbs and other extremities.

"Jareth.. I can't wait any longer.. I can't leave this life without.." Be brave, she told herself. "Without you inside me."

He groaned, his fingers slipping through her hair. "Sarah.."

"If we're going to die, it won't matter. There won't be any consequences.." Her breath was catching on every other word as his fingers spidered along the back of her neck.

"This isn't how I would have planned it. I should have - "

"We're in your room, Jareth. We're on your majestic royal bed, with cushions and blankets and loveliness. Imagine it."

He was trying; really, he was. Sarah began tugging her clothes out of the way. Jareth, hands shaking, did the same. 

"Please hurry. I'm so afraid we won't have time to.."

"I wanted to make it good for you, Sarah, to go slowly."

She smiled. "If there's time for a second try, you can. For now, just, please.."

His hands cupped her breasts, their points aching against his palms as his tongue roved her mouth. One of his thighs slid between hers, finding wetness, finding heat. His cock jerked with the strain of waiting. There was something raw and pure about knowing he was the only man - the only being, period - who had ever touched Sarah this way. If that made him a jealous bastard, so be it. 

His turbulent gaze seemed to give off a faint light as she slid his hand lower, opening herself to him. Jareth groaned again as his finger explored her velvet sheath. Their last episode of foreplay had done little to stretch her, and he didn't want to bring her pain, but she was insistent, keening with need. "More."

The word was a spell, and Jareth bent to her will, adding a second finger. She tightened around him, simultaneously pushing him out and drawing him in, her muscles conflicted and confused. "I want you more than anything."

"More than going back?"

She kissed him again. "What's said is said."

He murmured to her about trying something new, and she sighed, willing the nervousness to dissipate. Jareth began to kiss down her body, and before she had time to form words of protest, he was *there*, his face molding itself to her haven.

Sarah's body clamped down, her fingers twining into his hair and holding his head in place. "My God - "

His tongue and the pads of his fingers made her open up, and she stretched herself out like a sacrifice, a blessing. A gift of the gods. His eyes glittered dangerously as he gazed up at Sarah, causing the dark richness of desire to build inside of her. Outside, a storm began to assail the building, but in here, they were warm and safe - though Sarah was undeniably wet.

He kept up the sweet assault, making her see stars. Every time she got close, he changed tactic or tempo, making her start all over again, pushing her higher and higher.

"Oh please," she begged, feeling the feathers of his tongue's caress on her clit. As he sped it up, she swore his tongue became a flame, burning her inside, bringing molten heat gushing forth from her virgin chasm. Jareth allowed her release, her hands pushing him away as he eased her back down.

He had settled beside her, but without any warning, she had climbed on top of him, beginning a steady descent along the front of his body.

"Sarah?"

"My turn." She was so sweet, so demanding, her body leaving wet marks on his skin from her dripping desire; how could he refuse her?

I am a bastard, he thought, knowing that this was more experienced foreplay than her innocent eyes told him she should have. 

"All mine." She kept repeating it, partly to him, partly to herself.

He offered her one last chance to stop, to allow him to focus on her once more, but she refused. Sarah's tongue scalded the head of his cock, and he felt he could happily let her do this until he breathed his last. Her teasing licks drove him mad, but when she began to suck, his entire body ached with the need to let go.

She was a novice, but so eager to please, and her tight mouth was testing the limits of his endurance. When Sarah began to whimper, sending vibrations along his shaft, he spoke gruffly in hoarse whispers:

"If you keep doing that, you're going to stay a virgin."

She got his meaning, reluctantly giving up her toy and settling into position on her back. "I wanted you nice and wet for me," she breathed. Jareth kissed her fiercely, needing her more than air.

"Please." She rubbed at herself with her fingers, and he snatched her wrist, moving her hand out of his way. He pinned her wrist above her head to the ground beneath them, and her eyes shone with trust. His free hand spread her lips, the head of his cock caressing her folds. Sarah rocked her body against the pressure, desperate need clawing at her womb, her rosy mouth parted so prettily as she panted for him.

The velvet of his cock stroked her hot button until she was mewling, interspersed with pushes. "Take me, my King. Take me.." He bore down, pushing in until the head disappeared, then another inch, causing her to suck in a breath.

"I'm sorry - "

She cut him off. "Please. Please, Jareth.."

He pushed harder, sliding in another inch, hitting her wall.

"Tear it down. Let love in." She hadn't meant to say that, but it was out. Jareth drove into her, hard, and she felt her body give. He stilled, letting the enormity of what he had done crash over him. Bastard. Sarah arched her hips, trying to move.

He kissed her possessively, his tongue mimicking the act, and she wriggled impatiently beneath him. When her free hand pressed against his ass, he knew he'd have to pin that wrist to the other. Sarah offered a slight whimper of protest, but let him do it. His cock lengthened and hardened at her submission, her gift to him. "I trust you," she whispered, his cock beginning to move. She was so tight, he was going to need to maintain control..

"Hurt me. We always hurt the ones we love; I understand.."

He growled. "There will be pain, Sarah, but I promise you, if we live through this, I will make it up to you."

She was aching, needing more, and he gave it to her - slower than she would have liked. Her hands stayed pinned, the position of her arms making her breasts jiggle and swell, driving him insane.

"Is it good, Sarah? Is it all that you'd wished for?"

Sarah moaned assent. "Yes, my King. Don't stop.. please.."

Her little-girl voice got to him in ways that disturbed him, and Jareth reminded herself that she was of age. If it hadn't been him, it would have been someone less worthy; wasn't it better this way?

"There wouldn't have been any other. It had to be you."

He was shocked by her admission. "You're still reading my thoughts."

She smiled, just as another stab of pain hit her. "Mmm.. Do you mind?"

He didn't. He showed her, in his mind, all of the positions he wanted to show her, every deliciously depraved fantasy he wanted to explore. She tightened around him, seeming to enjoy most of them as much as he did. The image of him cumming over her face and breasts had her gasping, but she did not rebuke him.

"I tried not to think of you. I did try. But any time my hand slid beneath my blankets, I just.."

Jareth gritted his teeth.

"I couldn't help it. You made me so wet. I'd rock against my hand for what felt like hours, imagining it was yours.."

He thrust harder, making her yelp. The wet sounds of their bodies meeting filled the small space, and Sarah wondered if anyone was listening, even watching them.

"Do you care?"

Jareth had read her thoughts. How was that possible?

"I don't c-care. D-don't sto-op.. fuck.."

He let go of her wrists, and she kept them in place, letting him take her. Giving herself to him.

The mixture of adoration and wonder in her eyes was making him dizzy, but she was so damned beautiful, he couldn't look away. Sarah wrapped one leg around his back, pushing him deeper. 

"I'm close, Sarah. I'm out of practice." He was; she knew it was true. He showed her how many nights he'd spent taking himself in hand, calling her name, cursing himself for it. He was used to quick relief, and now - 

"I want you to cum, Sarah. Can you manage being on top of me?"

She moaned, a broken 'yes' escaping her lips.

He rolled them over, never leaving her body. Sarah felt exposed, but the love and hunger in his eyes spurred her on.

"Stroke yourself, precious. I want to watch you."

Her finger found her clit, finding she was almost too wet for friction. He continued to move, but let her set the pace. Gravity forced her down upon his cock, taking him in as deeply as he could go. Jareth's hands plucked at her nipples, and she threw back her head, riding him harder as her fingers worked.

"That's it, darling. Make yourself cum. Let me feel you. And when you're cumming, I'm going to cum inside you."

Sarah was frantic, bucking against him, feeling the heat growing between them. When she looked down at where their bodies joined, she saw that the mark on his thigh was glowing. She touched it, and it turned white. Her own mark was glowing, and responded to his touch in the same manner.

Sarah came, screaming as though she'd never stop, not caring anymore about anything but alleviating the hunger inside of her. When she quieted, Jareth was still hard, filling the space between her thighs.

"Sarah.." He didn't finish the sentence, rolling her onto her back once more. He pulled all the way out, plunging back in to the hilt, and she cried out, wanting this, needing it. Jareth could hold back no longer, and she pulled him closer, feeling every muscle in his body in motion as he fucked her. When he found a sensitive spot, he hit it again and again, almost more than she could bear.

"Please cum. Cum inside me. Fuck.."

The marks of their bodies were pressed together, and she felt the pressure rising. "Jareth, I'm - "

She did - and so did he, blasting jets of hot seed into her pussy with great force. She felt them filling her up, seeping back out, claiming her. She smelled of him, of his sex, and he smelled of her. They were one. 

The dungeon walls shook; were they under attack? Jareth rolled them out of the way just as a chunk of masonry came crashing down upon the spot they had just occupied. 

He threw her his shirt, pulling on his own trousers. There wasn't time for anything else, and besides, most of their clothing was trapped beneath the rubble.

As daylight streamed in, Sarah looked to her King for guidance. "What do we do?"

He smiled, taking her hand. "We run like hell."


	26. Love versus Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a way to defeat Droch and save everyone.
> 
> Sarah and Jareth may have, at last, found the key - but will it save Jareth, too?
> 
> Chopped-up lyrics in this chapter borrowed w/o permission from David Bowie's "Let's Dance."

Sarah asked, in breathless bursts, what had just happened.

"My guess would be, the final part of the prophecy: you let love in."

"And the marks?" Hers was still tingling, flashing light from beneath the hem of Jareth's shirt.

"When they aligned during the act, our energies joined. That must have set off a - "

Here, he paused to swing her out of the way of a whistling cannonball. 

" - cataclysmic shift in the Underground. The world is, literally, falling down around us, and Droch is panicking, thinking he can fight destruction with MORE destruction."

"So us making love has destroyed your world? I mean, in health class we had to learn about the consequences of sex, but - JARETH!"

A heavily-armed but not-so-heavily skilled knight appeared from behind a rock, brandishing a lance. Jareth hurled a crystal at the figure, knocking him off of his horse, at which time Jareth grabbed the lance.

"How did you - "

"You seem to have given back some of my former powers. The effects, alas, may not last, so let's make the most of them." He still had the Council to contend with - a more formidable concept than facing Droch.

"I don't get it - does the Council decide life and death?"

His silence told her it was so.

"Isn't there anything anyone can - WHOOOA, NELLY!" They had no choice but to change direction, as they had reached the yawning edge of a bottomless chasm. 

"Which way, my Queen?"

She smiled a little, despite the dire circumstances. "That way!" It was a snap decision, but she trusted it. He fell in step with her.

The sky was growing darker by the minute, and screams - some of anger, others of terror - filled the air. Rocks were shattering left and right, trees were toppling to the ground, and the world was shaking as though a giant volcano was threatening to erupt.

"Is anywhere safe?"

Jareth wasn't sure. Sarah hazarded a glance backwards, and saw in horror that the castle was no more.

"It doesn't matter, Sarah. Life is more important than any possession."

It had been his home. Now, even if they won, he'd have no home to go back to. 

"What if I take us up?"

He grinned at her. "You feel up to it?"

Sarah grabbed him, taking shelter behind one of the only remaining boulders. She focused her energies on creating another bubble, and they were rising. This one was smaller than the 'ballroom' she had created, but that suited their purpose; the smaller the target, the more difficult it would be to hit. 

"We can't just float forever." Sarah said it, wishing it wasn't true.

Jareth looked so.. alive; how was it possible for him to be destined to die so soon?

"We will have to find Droch and face him. Whenever you feel ready, Sarah."

She looked down below, where fires flashed and quickly consumed everything they touched. It seemed as though the earth itself was lighting up and sucking down every solid object, leaving dark voids in their wake. "How will we find him in all of this chaos?"

Jareth stroked her back, scarcely daring to believe he'd gotten to make love to her at last, that he was still breathing in her scent, devouring her with his eyes, touching her as a lover.. "His camp will retreat. I give them a few more minutes. Then, we follow them."

It seemed as though most of the scurrying, howling crowds had forgotten their mission of finding the fugitives. Sure enough, as the minutes ticked by, swarms of the beings began to get into formation - not to fight, but to run with a shared purpose and goal in mind. 

Sarah had to steer the bubble by her will. Jareth offered what assistance he could; some was magic, but most of it was by words of encouragement and the feel of his soothing hand upon her body. 

"I see.. tents. Is that where - "

Jareth nodded, placing a kiss upon her cheek.

"You understand what could happen."

Sarah bit her lip. Her body still thrummed with their mingled energies, but for how long?

"You understand what *will* happen. What must." 

She willed away the tears. 

"I'm not sorry. For any of it."

She would never understand him. "How can you say that?"

He kissed her, her body melting into his, the bubble listing to the left as she lost her concentration. "You were worth waiting for. And you, Sarah, are worth dying for."

The tears broke forth. They weren't gold now; they were diamonds. Each was beautifully formed, but they did not cut her. He captured one, holding it up to the light.

"Perfect. Diamonds are forever, they say."

Sarah righted their craft, easing it down by degrees to land in front of the largest tent. "I love you." She felt that those words said everything, and yet at the same time, they fell painfully short.

"I love you, too. And Sarah - never give up on love. It's the only thing no one can take away from you. Kingdoms, power, even your life can be stolen; but love remains."

As the bubble touched the ground, it dissolved away, leaving them exposed. Sarah gathered her nerve. "Droch!"

There was a commotion inside the tent, the sound of metal swords and spears being brought into position.

The dark leader stepped forth from between the flaps of the tent. The ground beneath them continued to shake, until a louder cracking, ripping sound rang out. Everyone jostled and stumbled as the majority of the earth around them was pulled away, leaving only one tent and the land upon which it stood. They seemed to be suspended in nothingness; for as far as Sarah could see in every direction, the lands were gone. Then again, the thick, black fog could have been obscuring any number of sights. 

"Is this the land you're prepared to die for?" Droch taunted them both.

Sarah stared him down. "I could ask you the same. It hardly seems worth the bother, does it? Such a small, forsaken rock."

Droch sized her up, a sneer curling his already repugnant features. His nose twitched as he scented something offensive. 

"So. You are no longer a maid."

She should have blushed; the man had just outed her as an initiate into the world of sex - but she wasn't ashamed. Rather than reply in words, she raised her chin.

"You do not deny it. Rutting like beasts in my dungeon, moments from death? How.. primitive."

Jareth detected some jealousy in Droch - though whether it was towards sexuality in general, or Sarah in particular, he couldn't say.

"I haven't come to discuss my private life. I've come to finish this. I offer you one last chance to leave, Droch. I don't enjoy killing."

He cocked his head to the side. "I do."

With most of his men fallen into the smoking abyss, Droch had less of an audience and virtually no back-up, but he seemed to feed on death and destruction. His stature seemed to grow before their very eyes as he breathed in the scent of death and the sound of screams.

Jareth, for his part, could only watch; his limited powers had been expended. "Don't look at me, Sarah. Don't look back; always forward."

Droch, annoyed at his very presence, hurled malignant energy toward Jareth, sending him prone. Sarah gritted her teeth, summoning her energy.

"Yes, yes - anger and grief. Two of my favorites," Droch quipped as Sarah sent forth what she had. It barely winded him. She knew she mustn't tire herself out too quickly; he was strong, and he enjoyed torturing his opponents. Sarah would need endurance.

As time wore on, she felt the anger waning. The wrongs she had suffered in her world seemed so small compared to the present situation, she wondered why she'd ever lost sleep or shed a tear over them.

"Grief," she told herself. There again, other than her mother's death and almost losing Toby forever, none of her losses seemed to matter anymore. She forced herself to face forward, knowing Jareth could be dying right now, knowing she couldn't watch - 

"Even if you win, Sarah, you'll be all alone. Stuck here, without your king; you don't have the first idea of how to run a kingdom - and that's IF they'll have you." Droch seemed to advance, edging her closer to the precipice. "You know what you need to do. The only way to find peace; the only hope of seeing him again."

"You're lying. There is ALWAYS a choice."

"Not this time. You can't do it, Sarah. No one to comfort you; your friends, all gone. Your family, stuck in another world. Just give up." He paused. "You could take him with you."

She could feel the winds rising from below like steam. They were denser than air, choking her. Jareth's cough told her he still lived. 

"I won't take the coward's way out." She hurled the last of her grief at him, and he hardly flinched. 

"Even if I kill him right in front of you? He's suffering, Sarah; I could end that. How is it evil to end suffering?"

"It isn't his time. That isn't your choice to make."

Fire only fed him. Tears made him laugh. What did she have left? 

"Sarah.." The voice wasn't Jareth's. She knew it, and yet, it took her a moment..

"Briony?"

Another voice joined. "And Carwyn."

Droch, apparently, could not hear them. "Are you pretending to be mad?"

Sarah tried to quiet her mind. "Where are you?"

"We're in your world. Don't give up. You can defeat him."

The mark was glowing brighter, burning her in its intensity.

"What should I do?"

"Your friends are alive. Ayakku found them; they're here, waiting until it's safe to return."

The love she felt for her long-lost friends gave her strength. Droch clutched his nose, his hand coming away covered in blood as though she'd punched him.

"That's the key, Sarah."

Love. She knew it now, knew it intimately. Sarah replayed her first time in her mind, every vivid detail, and Droch was howling. 

"The tongue no spell can temper.."

The words came just before communication was cut off, Droch hurling invisible restraints at Sarah, pinning her to the spot where she stood. She found she could no longer move her arms or legs.

"You don't like love, do you, Droch?" She sent him every sappy, romantic image she could - some from old songs and movies; others from her own recent experiences.

After several minutes of this, he seemed to grow immune. A hazy barrier covered him like a helmet, blocking her thoughts. Sarah's vision went dark, and she feared this was it. Jareth made no sound.

"You can take my kingdom, my power, and even my life, but you can not take my LOVE!"

Droch was growling, foaming at the mouth. "Silence!"

"NO! As long as I have breath, I will NOT hold my tongue!"

Imagining her love, she began to sing:

*If you say run, I'll run with you  
If you say hide, we'll hide  
Because my love for you would break my heart in two..*

Droch's armor began to steam. She could hear him in agony.

*..For fear your grace should fall  
For fear tonight is all..*

Droch tried to charge at her, but couldn't go past an invisible line. She kept it up: 

*Let's sway while color lights up your face  
Let's sway through the crowd to an empty space..  
Let's dance.. you could look into my eyes..  
Under the moonlight, the serious moonlight..* 

It didn't make much sense, but then, neither did love. There was a roar, and it felt as though the remaining piece of the world was about to explode. 

"Jareth! I love you!" 

Droch staggered, reeling under the power of her emotions. She heard him curse, heard him plodding haphazardly close to the edge, and heard his blood-curdling scream as he dropped down and out of existence. His minions, in a blind act of misguided loyalty, followed after him. 

The restraints shattered, and she scrambled to Jareth's side, clinging to him, despite the fact that he did not move. 

"He's gone, my love. It's over. Love won."

She closed her eyes, listening to his chest. Nothing. She had saved the worlds, but she was alone.

"I won't leave you. I promised myself to you with my body, and I will keep that promise." She laid herself as close to him as she could, trying to keep them both warm, knowing it was futile. As she blinked, heavy-lidded, the air around them seemed to clear, then to brighten. Sarah closed her eyes, wanting to block out reality for a moment and wary of possible illusions, but when she opened them again, she saw that the world was, indeed, growing brighter. 

"It's so beautiful," she murmured to him. "It's like the world was just born. The sun is shining on us, Jareth - on our kingdom."

Perhaps saving everyone else was enough. She should lay there and wait to join him. Another ruler would rise, and - 

"We did it."

Sarah stifled a scream. "Jareth?"

He opened his eyes. "The old Jareth is gone." 

Sarah didn't understand. "Are you saying you're not him?"

He sat up with her help. "I mean that the man I was is gone - the one who kidnapped babies and frightened young girls. That part of me had to die, in order for us to begin anew. The Underground will have to rebuilt from almost nothing, Sarah; can you - *will* you - help me do it?"

She was crying and laughing at the same time. "Of course I will. But - "

"I don't have all the answers. I expect they'll come in time. I gather your friends are safe enough."

"Yes. They're back in - "

He pointed to a spot over her shoulder, where a stream of bubbles had appeared. "They're HERE!"

Jareth shook the dirt from his shirtless form, and Sarah noticed that there were no ports, no scars - his skin was new. It fairly sparkled.

"You go and greet them," he smiled.

"No, sir. You're going to greet them too. The new Jareth is going to have lots of friends - REAL friends."

He rolled his eyes, but she knew there was no malice in it.

"Very well. Then we must set to work on re-imagining our world."

She nodded. "Our world. Together."

He was smirking at her, and she wondered why. Then she remembered. 

"I'm not dressed for receiving company."

"Indeed not. Well, unless you plan on being the next Cleopatra."

She play-punched him in the arm. "You're horrible!"

"No, he's Jareth - and *I'm* Hoggle!" 

Jareth magicked up some more modest attire for his love as she greeted their returning citizens. Ludo bellowed up some rocks from far, far below; Ambrosius yapped his excitement at seeing Sarah again; Sir Didymus gave a low bow, and the group spent many hours in happy planning for a glorious new future.

It had taken dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, but Sarah had at last found her way to the true heart of the Labyrinth. Jareth had finally found his Queen. The worlds were put to right once more - and all through the magic and power of love.


	27. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their story will never *truly* end, but, I felt my version needed a little bit more.
> 
> Here it is.

It had been a year according to Aboveground time. The land was largely restored and repopulated; apparently the magic had saved more subjects than Jareth or Sarah had thought possible. The Council had gotten their due from Jareth in the form of his old self, and Sarah made it a point to pay tribute to them each night before bed. Their marriage, undertaken with the Council's blessing, had been an elaborate formality, as they knew they were already one in spirit - but it was an event still talked about by their subjects, a beautiful highlight in the Underground's history books. 

Queen Sarah had set up a school for teaching selected subjects rudimentary magic, with the understanding that it was to be used only for good, and that a misuse of power would result in swift justice. The other remaining kingdoms were unlikely to attempt an invasion, and the Underground was well-fortified with love, but a good leader was prepared for any eventuality. 

The subjects were loyal; the kingdom, mostly peaceful and prosperous. The castle and surrounding grounds now had a decidedly more.. feminine aesthetic, but Jareth loved her so much, he couldn't deny her. (She did introduce him to the concept of a 'man cave,' satisfying that brooding, gloomy side of himself. As he had warned her, life with him was never going to be all sweetness and light. There was a beauty to darkness, making the light more precious by its contrast.)

Sarah had found a novel way to communicate with Toby. With Jareth's help, 'David Weatherton' had been publishing a series of tales about the Goblin Kingdom and its surrounding lands, co-authored by Sarah Williams, and a special convoy of goblin ambassadors was in charge of ensuring that the child received a hand-delivered copy of each new edition. The books were returned with notes in the margins, snippets of his life Aboveground - letting his sister know he was okay.

Jareth had never known such happiness. Every so often, he would ask his Queen whether she regretted her choice; this was one such occasion.

As the rulers looked out at the crowded ballroom, he turned to her. The band had just begun to play the song he had composed based on Sarah's impromptu lyric-spouting in her battle with Droch; "Let's Dance" was a decidedly human tune, but the subjects ate it up. 

"Are you happy, my love?"

She smiled, the joy spreading over her face and crinkling the skin at the corners of her eyes. "Deliriously."

His heart bloomed in his chest, trembling like a flower. "Then why aren't we dancing?"

She sighed contentedly. "I've been so tired lately, Jareth."

He looked up at her from beneath lowered lashes. "Have our sessions been overtaxing you, precious?"

Queen Sarah giggled. "You know I'm just as insatiable as you are." 

"Are you having trouble adjusting to this world? Do you regret your choice?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not for a moment." She turned thoughtful for a moment. "Jareth, how close are we to finishing the latest edition?"

Jareth frowned, thinking. "I'd say within the next few days. Why do you ask?"

Sarah reached for his hand, placing it upon her stomach. "Because there's going to be a new addition to the new edition."

She held his gaze, watching as his face cycled through uncertainty to shock and, finally, to delight. "Are you certain?"

The Queen nodded, tears forming but not falling, shimmering in her eyes. "I am."

Jareth didn't know what to say. "Sarah.."

"I'm already almost a third of the way through. Unless goblin babes are different.. Are they?"

He grinned. "You're probably about halfway through. Maybe more." Now it was HER turn to look shocked.

"Well, that's all the more reason to enjoy the last period of peace and quiet we're likely to get for some time. Dance with me?"

There was a lot to be said for having a wife with her own ideas and an independent streak. He found that he liked when she took the initiative, and the way she asked for what she wanted and needed. His ability to read her mind was not absolute, and it kept things.. interesting.

"Always."

The King led his Queen to the dance floor, the two of them sharing their wonderful secret for a little longer. There would be an official announcement soon, but for now, it was all for them.

Forever had just begun.


End file.
